I just had a dream, a vivid one. It felt so real. About my late grandfather.
In that dream, our family gathered at our house. We talked about how Bak (my grandfather)’s health deteriorating. He showed some ‘changes’. At that time, we kind of ‘knew’ that his last days were approaching. We said our goodbyes when Bak was going back to his house. I saw my younger cousins started to cry. He left the house finally. I was about to grab my phone, to call him and talk. I had this tiny feeling inside saying that it might be my last time talking to him. But, that dream ended there!
I opened my eyes. It’s in the middle of the night, and I saw my husband sleeping beside me. The moment I realized it was just a dream, I cried hard.
The truth is, I (we) didn’t had the chance to say goodbye to him. By Allah’s will, he left us during a weekend when most of our family members were not home. After having chest discomfort, he drove himself to the hospital not far from home, at 4am. And he took his last breath at the emergency department, not long after that. The report says it was due to cardiogenic shock.
It’s 2 years after he left all of us (on Dec 26th, 2009). How fast time flies. But I barely talked about it (the lost). Whenever I miss him, I cried alone. Not even my husband realizes it. I was so close to arwah and love him dearly. I lived with him and my late grandmother since I was an infant until I went for boarding school in Form 1. Her favourite granddaughter, i was.
He was a schoolteacher. When I was 6 years old, I joined Standard One class at his school. Despite being a year younger than my peers, I managed to get first and second ranking in class during exams. I cried many times at that school, though: when I forgot to bring certain books, when a naughty boy teases me, when I want to fast during Ramadhan but all my friends went to canteen instead. Whenever I had that ‘problem’, I went to teacher’s room to find him.
I have interests in books since I was young. I inherited it from Pa, my father. While he encourages me to read since my early years, my grandfather also contributed in some ways. Thanks to Bak for endless trips to Pustaka Dayang (now Pustaka Seri Intan?), the big & famous bookstore in Kuala Trg. Books became my best friend, until now.
Bak had seen me grown up from a little girl, becoming a woman. Besides my parents, he was very much involved. I still remember him being so happy on my engagement day (5 months before he left us). Unfortunately, he was not there to share happiness during my wedding day.
I miss him, every now and then. Maybe this dream I had serves to remind me that we still can ‘communicate’ with him through Do’a & Yasin recitation. That’s the thing we can still do, to show our love for arwah. Al-Fatihah..