I have been contemplating whether to write about my mother or not, especially when people are busy celebrating ( low note, though) Mother's Day. You know why? Of course it is difficult as my mom just left us about 2 weeks ago. The memory is still fresh. The thoughts are still lingering. The prayers are still with sorrow.
Well, i will try as i think this is important for me to cherish all the good deeds done my mother whose patience and care comforted me throughout my life. Indeed, i could never repay for what she did for our family. The hardship of bringing all 6 of us, during World War 2 until now. it is impossible to find one like her.
My mom toiled in the paddy fields with my father, tending to their "bread and butter" day after day. Then father would cycled back, with mom on the carrier, fighting against the windy evenings to reach home. From Teluk Malek to Kpg Padang. It was quite a distance on bicycle, unlike now where we can reach the place in minutes.
Then, at nite she would burn the midnight oil, weaving mengkuang mats, only to be sold at about rm12 a piece. She would take about 2 days to complete one. I would lie down beside her, reading the book while accompanying her. It was difficult to walk around her working area, as a slight move would damage her nicely woven mat.
Early in the morning, i would wake up to the smell of ikan tamban being fried, to be menu-matched with pulut kukus, plus grated coconut and a flask of coffee ( cap kapal terbang). That would be her bekal to the field. Lunch would comprise of rice and ikan sepat goreng and kari ikan haruan ( which was not my fav at all) because my diet was only some kanji ( boiled, mushy rice added with salted prawn and coconut milk). Imagine, she prepared this everyday, just for me, her youngest child.
When i was in secondary school, her burden was lighten a bit after my brother, Bang Zan started working at Maybank and another one, Cik Ani attached to Angkasapuri. My expenses were covered by them. My late sister, Kak Wan also chipped in so i enjoyed a moderate teenage life. i was quite pampered, thus i terforgot that my mom and dad worked hard to make ends meet.
When i left the family in 1982, my mom was somehow at lost. i went to Canada, a place beyond her reach. She told my brother to install a phone so she could talk to me every fortnight. I would call her at the exact time agreed. My letters to her were written in Jawi so that my father could read them to her. Sometimes, the postman, Mr Razak would spend the time reading for them.
I came back in 1986 and started working in Jan 1987. She did not tend to her paddy field anymore. Both of them just spent the days around the house compound, selling bananas, vegetables etc. It was not for the money but just for them to fulfill their days.....buat bayaq hasil tanah kata pak...... I paid my first pay for them to perform Haj and off they went, flying for the first time..........their doa in front of the Kaabah bore a fruitful results........i was pregnant with Along, after enduring 4 years of marriage without bearing a child. I could never thank them for their prayers......
When i delivered all my 8 children, my mom and dad were always with me, helping me through my confinement.( my mother in law also helped a lot). My dad learnt how to fold napkins ( that time, pampers were very expensive)......i enjoyed being pampered by them.......that was why i could bear 8 children hahahaha........my i received unconditional love from them and loving them in return was a blessed.
Now that Mom is not with me anymore, i feel at lost. No more prayers from her, no more nagging, no more arguing, no more sharing......i am left alone but i am sure both my parents received enough love and care from me.....my never-ending prayers for them reflect my long-lasting memories.......i pray that we will meet again in Jannah, insyaallah.
