Health is something that we took for granted until finally it fails us. Health is what we delay until such time it becomes an emergency. I wish I was as healthy as I used to be. I wish I don't have anything to complain about.
But reality has to set in. I have back ache that bothers me on and off. I have shoulder pain in the joint that need physiotherapy. I feel tired and exhausted on certain days.
Maybe it's the food, maybe it's my lifestyle. Maybe it's the thing in the air that I breathe in. Maybe it's the day to day pressure that reaps my energy away.
I decided that I should be healthy and happy. Not to waste my life and time on trivials and irritations. To enjoy life and to laugh. To think positively on everything.
Since it's the new year, what would be a better time than now to rejuvenate my spirits! I have years to live on, insyaallah.
Tuesday, January 3, 2012
In June 2009, exactly 2 and half years ago, I wrote about my father. Today I am writing about him, but this time with tears in my eyes and a heart that's totally broken.
He passed away as peacefully as any man could be on the 14th December 2011. He died an honoured man, much loved by wife, children, relatives and friends. Our house was full with people visiting him for the last time. How I wished he had that many visitors while he was lying sick on the bed.
He had been in and out of the hospital regularly for check ups, so I didn't expect that when we decided to admit him to Pantai hospital two days earlier, it was his last. On admission, the doctor advised that his blood pressure was low and kept on reducing. His heart was weakening.
There was a confusion about relaying this message to us as nobody told us he was dying.
He died at 10.35pm on wednesday, with most family by his side, except me. It was a cold, wet rainy night. I drove all the way praying for him, when finally I reached him I called his name to wake him up and the doctor held me back informing the sad news.
I felt so disappointed I couldn't reach him on time. There he was, my father, lying so still, and I felt like a little girl again, waiting for my father to come and greet me.
Throughout the night, it was difficult to believe he was gone, he looked like he was sleeping. I almost wondered maybe the doctor was wrong!
After the funerals and all, I was crying and thinking, oh my father, oh my father.... there was something in my heart that felt the guilt... have I done all I should as his daughter....I had done so little and he had done so much for me.
I felt why was time so short, or has it flown past so fast I didn't realise I'm getting old and he was going ... what a life on this earth is, except to live a while and raise children and move on.... and what was life for my father except to dedicate his life to his children and then passed on.
Memories are what hurt me the most! I wished I could have the time again, being the growing up girl, enjoying my father's presence, having his indulgent smiles on me, waiting for him, being waited on by him.....
"Ayah, I pray for you, that you have a much better life in the hereafter, that Allah forgive you and bless you and put you in Jannah together with those mukminin and solihin..Amin..."
He passed away as peacefully as any man could be on the 14th December 2011. He died an honoured man, much loved by wife, children, relatives and friends. Our house was full with people visiting him for the last time. How I wished he had that many visitors while he was lying sick on the bed.
He had been in and out of the hospital regularly for check ups, so I didn't expect that when we decided to admit him to Pantai hospital two days earlier, it was his last. On admission, the doctor advised that his blood pressure was low and kept on reducing. His heart was weakening.
There was a confusion about relaying this message to us as nobody told us he was dying.
He died at 10.35pm on wednesday, with most family by his side, except me. It was a cold, wet rainy night. I drove all the way praying for him, when finally I reached him I called his name to wake him up and the doctor held me back informing the sad news.
I felt so disappointed I couldn't reach him on time. There he was, my father, lying so still, and I felt like a little girl again, waiting for my father to come and greet me.
Throughout the night, it was difficult to believe he was gone, he looked like he was sleeping. I almost wondered maybe the doctor was wrong!
After the funerals and all, I was crying and thinking, oh my father, oh my father.... there was something in my heart that felt the guilt... have I done all I should as his daughter....I had done so little and he had done so much for me.
I felt why was time so short, or has it flown past so fast I didn't realise I'm getting old and he was going ... what a life on this earth is, except to live a while and raise children and move on.... and what was life for my father except to dedicate his life to his children and then passed on.
Memories are what hurt me the most! I wished I could have the time again, being the growing up girl, enjoying my father's presence, having his indulgent smiles on me, waiting for him, being waited on by him.....
"Ayah, I pray for you, that you have a much better life in the hereafter, that Allah forgive you and bless you and put you in Jannah together with those mukminin and solihin..Amin..."
