The visit

"Do we need to visit daily?"

"If you were a father in the ICU, wouldn't you like your kids to visit you daily when they are all living within reasonable distance to do so?"

After a week, Ummi is still in the ICU. Still depending on the respiratory machine. They took her off the 24/hour dialysis machine and changed it to a 6/hour machine for one day and returned to the 24/hour machine the next day. She's getting better, but not good enough. Still depending on lots of medication to keep her internal organs functioning better. She's off and on the sedative - because at times when she's conscious, she tried to remove IV lines, attached to numerous bags of medicine and fluid.

I've been told that she is more conscious nowaday compared to a week back, but still very, very weak. She may be able to respond to questions by blinking her eyes, moving her head or her hand, but she still could not speak. It's understandable - just seeing all those IV lines, the equipments, the oxygen tube, the wires attached to the EKG monitor, the pulse oximeter on her finger - it is very clear that she's in a lot of pain. Even a healthy person can feel quite overwhelmed by all the monitors and equipments that beep, squeal and make unfamiliar sounds.  

It would be very unfeeling for any person to see somebody lying in the ICU and not feel anything.

Nevertheless, at times I ask myself when I visit her- why am I here? What am I doing here? Am I doing it out of duty? Out of responsibility? Am I doing it because I want my children to emulate me some day? That - even when I doubt I'm doing this out of love, somehow I figure this is the 'right' thing to do?

I am still asking myself those questions. I don't know how long she'll remain warded in the ICU. All the nurses and the doctors we asked have been giving the same answer - it's hard to predict how long a patient will be in the ICU. Still, I believe that - even when she remains unconscious whenever I visit her - Ummi would appreciate having her children visiting her everyday...

Please make do'a...

... for my Ummi. She's been in ICU at PPUM since Wednesday. Had internal bleeding earlier on but the bleeding had stopped. She's still on respiratory support and on dialysis 24 hours daily.

Whatever else she is, she's the one who carried me in her tummy for 9 months and gave birth to me at home (not in the hospital) more than 30 years ago... For that, I have always meant both her and my Mak along with Ayah when ever I made do'a for my 'parents'.

And right now I'm making do'a that what ever and which ever way it goes, Allah will make it easy for all of us...

Roku nen me no kinenbi

~ A wedding anniversary is the celebration of love, trust, partnership, tolerance and tenacity. The order varies for any given year. ~ Paul Sweeney


Alhamdulillah... we've been together for 6 years.
6 years already? Okay, okay, I know it's still in the one digit territory, but when one's own biological parents got their first divorce before she was 2 and their final divorce when she was 8 - staying married for 6 years seem somewhat significant.

To be honest, I'd rather woke up up next to hubby than the three kids sleeping in various positions and parts of our bed on the morning of our anniversary. Sure, I'm glad that I do not have to sleep by myself while he's away, but waking up this morning - with Humaidi lying on my right, Haniyya's hands wrapped on my left leg and Huzaifah's right foot just next to my left ear - I realized that there's nobody besides their father I'd rather be beside. Heh

It goes without saying that we have changed and grown since we got married. We have learnt a lot more from each other but still fumbled with each other thoughts and needs at times. . So yes, there are hiccups here and there. There were moments of weakness when he grumbled that I don't get him and made me wanted to retaliate that he doesn't get me too. There were moments when I cried alone rather than  pour out messily and emotionally to him because I had a feeling that he might not understand that I was not blaming him, but just wanted to let off some steam. Yeah, our marriage is still a work-in-progress. After all, the bonds of matrimony usually mature slowly, and we are still only in our 6th year.

I've come to accept that hubby is a non-romantic that would probably never buy me any flower, never dedicate sweet love songs like Maher Zain's "For the rest of my life" to me or send a box of Ferrero Rocher or Reese's Peanut Butter Cup to surprise me at work. But I'll cherish that he was always willing to go for a stroll in a park filled with tulips in spring when we were in Japan, and he once made an effort to sing InTeam's "Doa Seorang Kekasih" (the song played during our cake-cutting ceremony) and he would take some time to do some serious chocolate shopping when we were in Langkawi and Labuan. And I love that he usually doesn't mind changing into another shirt when I suggest we go out in similar-colored outfits.

And I was pleasantly surprised when he suggested for us to go out for an advanced anniversary dinner last Monday. Even more pleased when I was able to fit into the wedding dress I wore 6 years ago and be in it when we were out for dinner. Just as I gloated a bit to him by saying that it was an accomplishment of sort to be able to wear the wedding dress after 6 years and 3 kids, he replied nonchalantly, "you should have made the dress a size or two bigger in the first place. Look at me - I have never had any trouble wearing my wedding attire because they are all quite loose right from the beginning". That practically wiped out the grin from me. Hishh, spoilsport!

So, okay - he may not be perfect. But I've read enough "Di celah-celah kehidupan", "Cik Sri Siantan", "Dang Setia" and what nots to come to appreciate my husband more. He's a decent man who loves his family and works really hard for his family sake. He might have weaknesses here and there. Neither am I without faults. We just have to keep on learning from our mistakes, keep improving and keep working to hone and polish our skills as Muslim spouses and parents. Marriage is after all like a car - it needs maintenance, re-tuning, overhauling and basically takes lot of work to keep it running beautifully.

Happy Anniversary my beloved Abang. I am most blessed to have you in my life (as you are for having me in yours, hehehe). Here's making lots and lots of do'a that Allah will strengthen our bond, bestow us with barakah, guide us to be in the right path at all times and keep us together here and in the hereafter.

Our first solat together as husband and wife - Solat sunat nikah right after the nikah ceremony

Obligatory first-kiss-on-the-forehead pose

With my late Tok

Raise your hand. Stop child abuse

Did you know that an average of 7 children in Malaysia suffered abuse every day in 2008, and these were only the reported cases?

Many more experience abuse in silence and behind closed doors. Like all children, they too have a right to a happy childhood, free of abuse. Abuse robs a child of their health, development and dignity. It can also leave invisible scars on children, their families and society that last lifetimes, if not generations.

UNICEF has started a nationwide movement called "Get on Board" to provide the public with the information, insight and resources to stop child abuse. This knowledge will empower everyone to protect the children in our families and communities. Let us show our children that at least a 100,000 of us care. The more people who raise their hand to be counted, the stronger the campaign becomes to deter an abuser from hurting a child.

So, come on, let's "Get on Board" now
Join YouthSays

More than 6 years ago...

On the day of our engagement (never been published in this blog before)

Him

Don't speak unless you are spoken to - Part 3

So there he was, with Ustaz Asyraf, dressed quite smartly in a green Raihan-style shirt.
And I'd chosen to wear a plain pair of brown baju kurung.
I knew Mak wanted me to wear something nicer, but somehow it wouldn't seem quite right for me to go upstairs and change into the yellow-and-purple baju kurung only after the guests had already arrived. Ahh, so be it.

My first quick take of the 'special guest'?
He seemed awfully shy, as he entered the house behind Ustaz Asyraf, almost as if he wanted to be shielded by Ustaz Asyraf.
Looks? Ok lah
Height? Taller than me. Ok lah.
Overall appearance? Ok lah.
No butterflies in the tummy. No double flip-flop of the heart.
I had no idea then that I was meeting the man who was going to be my husband and the father of my children for the very first time that night.

Nothing to ponder much upon a quick glance - I reminded myself that he's just Ayah's guest, no big deal. Besides, I had to get ready to start serving dinner.

So dinner was served - for the guests from Seremban, Ayah and my younger brother Abang. I was told that Ustaz Amin tried out all the lauk, but did not have a second helping. (Much later on I found out that he had already eaten at Restoran Syed in SS3 prior to visiting us). Seemed like they had quite an animated discussion during dinner - ranging from war in the Middle East to kelebihan selawat and Islamic education in Malaysia. No, Ayah did not ask any personal questions. None on his job, his family, his likes or what his future plans are.

Me - I was playing Cinderella - the one who served dinner, clean up and served coffee after dinner. Ayah laid out a rule prior to the visit - 'don't speak unless you are spoken to'. I said 'okay' (while the answer in my head was more like "duh, what ever...")

But I broke the golden rule. Unintentionally actually.

After dinner was over, they moved to the living area and sat on the sofa. I brought out the cut fruits and trifle. Then, I asked Ayah, "nak buat air apa?" Ayah checked with Ustaz Asyraf, who requested for Nescafe. Then Ayah asked Ustaz Amin. His first response was "Kopi", quickly followed by "err, apa-apa jelah"

I seeked for clarification once again - "Kopi ke Nescafe?", to which he replied "Apa-apa jelah".

I made both. He chose Kopi.

But boy oh boy - I got a bitter scolding from Ayah later that night, all because of that one simple question.

The guests left at about 10 p.m.. It was school night after all, and Ustaz Amin had to teach the next day.

It was after the guests had left that Ayah scolded me

"Remember, you were not supposed to speak to him unless you are spoken to!"
"But it's not like I asked him anything personal - I was just seeking clarification...'Kopi ke Nescafe?' Just one single line. Surely it could not cause any harm?"
"You asked him directly in front of me. He might be intimidated by that, thinking that you are such a bold and forward person. No wonder you are still not married as you near 30, because you are a forward girl"

Ouch! Bold and forward, huh? All because of a simple, innocent clarification query???

Mak interrupted. "Kak, I know under any normal circumstances, you did no wrong. I know you have been trained to get detailed answer and that's why you can't help but seeked clarification. But that wasn't any normal occurrence. We don't know what kind of person we were dealing with and we don't know what his expectations are, so it's better to minimise risks by laying the simple rule of you not speaking unless you are spoken to. And you broke the rule."

Good thing was - 'the rule' was made by my parents. The same 'logic' did not apply to the 'special' guest - he had no problem at all with that question. In fact, a few days later, Ustaz Amin pestered Ustaz Asyraf to let Ayah know that his istikharah is positive and would like to know what's the result of istikharah on our side. Much later I found out that he had already performed istikharah before his visit to Kampung Tunku and had gotten a positive sign. He said that when he first saw me in person, he was even more convinced that we were meant to be together.
 
(Someone please pinch me already - how 1950s can this story get? Hehehe)  

So there - the story of how we first met.  
His first visit to our house was on August 19th, 2004.
We were engaged on September 19th, 2004. 
And married on December 3rd, 2004.
Alhamdulillah.

Don't speak unless you are spoken to - Part 2

Thursday came and I took the day off.
Since our guest is someone from Negeri Sembilan, I thought it would be okay to cook something spicy. No, not masak lemak cili api - I had a feeling that my version might not stand up to the original Negeri Sembilan version. Thus, sambal tumis udang was one of the dishes I prepared.

What if he's allergic to seafood? Hence I prepared some stir-fried beef marinated in black pepper with green peas, a dish my late Tok called 'bistik' (probably derived from beef steak).

Made some sayur campur too and trifle for dessert. Mak thought that it was not enough, so she cooked fish curry and ayam goreng berempah. Yeah, for a family which is used to having one or two lauk and one sayur dish, a 5-course dinner was quite memorable.

Mak was unhappy with the worn out place mats though and asked me to go and buy new ones. I was quite surprised because to me the place mats looked presentable enough.

"Just go and get new ones. Tetamu kenalah diraikan," Mak said when I tried to protest, since I really didn't feel like going out what with it nearing the end of office hour and I might got stuck in jam - all due to insignificant place mats.

It went without saying that Mak got her way. I went to Section 14, hoping to get decent but not too pricey place mats. I got them at Metrojaya during a non-Sale period, so it went without saying that the blue checked cloth place mats were quite pricey. And yes, the traffic was slow by the time I made it back home.

By maghrib - we were all ready. The table all set. The fruit cut, the cooked food ready to be warmed and to be served.

Not sure what to wear, I finally put on a demure brown baju kurung, my everyday outfit that's exclusively home-worn. Mak asked me to put on a pair of yellow and purple floral baju kurung - one of my office outfits - but I didn't want to be seen overdressed for someone who's been working hard in the kitchen. Besides, I thought wearing silky striking yellow baju kurung matched with purple tudung might not give the best first impression to an ustaz.

I told myself that he's coming to have dinner with Ayah, thus deserved no more special treatment than I would accord Ayah's other guests. Since he was Ayah's guest, I should not worry too much about looking nice, right? I wanted to be normal and I felt really comfortable wearing that brown baju kurung, notwithstanding that it was a hand-me-down pair (from Mak).

On the other hand, I purposely wore a tudung tiga segi and not tudung labuh - a personal test of sort to see whether this Ustaz was flexible enough to approve of girls wearing tudung tiga segi in their own home.

The guests arrived after Isyak. He wore a shiny satin-like green Raihan-style shirt.

Mak casted a quick glance at me with a look that said, "Look, look - he's making an effort to look nice and you are not. I told you to wear that yellow baju..."

- to be continued -