the one I love so dearly..

Seeing FBians wishing Happy Mother's Day to their mother made me want to say Happy Mother's Day to my mom, take her for a fancy dinner, buy her flowers, buy her gifts and so many more. 

It's mere a wish and will not come true. Emak is no longer around for me to do all that. There are times when i felt like calling her, and then realised she has left us.

A strong ladies she was. She like doing business, from a small stall of just selling "kuih-muih" and "rojak" to a small restaurant selling fried rice, fried noodles and etc. She was the cook until she was diagnosed with renal failure with led to 3 times of dialysis per week. Because of that, my parents had to hire another cook. There were still customers wanted her to cook for them, which happily cooked for them. She was on dialysis for 11 years..it was not a short period of time. She followed a strict diet, ate less proteins, control her water consumptions, maybe because of that it lasted for more than 10 years.

Despite of her illness, she still managed to cook our favourite foods and kuih. When Ayah passed away, she was devastated as she has lost a pillar of strength. Everyday mom will cook, bake or buy something to be sent to "surau" as "sedekah" for Ayah. I do not think i am able to do such things. She did it for her love to Ayah.

And now, instead of wishing Happy Mother's Day to Emak, i recite her Alfatihah as a gift.

Alfatihah for my late mother, Mariah binti Yusof

To those whose parents are still around, please don't take them for granted. Life won't be the same without them.

My Mother

Who fed me from her gentle breast
And hushed me in her arms to rest, 
And on my cheek sweet kisses prest?
My mother. 
When sleep forsook my open eye, 
Who was it sung sweet lullaby 
And rocked me that I should not cry?
My mother. 
Who sat and watched my infant head 
When sleeping in my cradle bed, 
And tears of sweet affection shed?
My mother. 
When pain and sickness made me cry, 
Who gazed upon my heavy eye 
And wept, for fear that I should die?
My mother. 
Who ran to help me when I fell 
And would some pretty story tell, 
Or kiss the part to make it well?
My mother. 
Who taught my infant lips to pray, 
To love God's holy word and day, 
And walk in wisdom's pleasant way?
My mother. 
And can I ever cease to be
Affectionate and kind to thee
Who wast so very kind to me,-
My mother 
Oh no, the thought I cannot bear; 
And if God please my life to spare 
I hope I shall reward thy care,
My mother. 
When thou art feeble, old and gray, 
My healthy arm shall be thy stay, 
And I will soothe thy pains away,
My mother 
Ans when I see thee hang thy head, 
'Twill be my turn to watch thy bed, 
And tears of sweet affection shed,-
My mother.

by Jane Taylor