Saying my farewell

He was smiling when he was wheeled into the operation theatre. Earlier on in the CCU room, he was cheerful. Personally I was baffled why he was in that mood. My four children were all with me. The previous night after our prayer together I was reading 'the doa selamat' and broke down towards the end and they were very concerned and anxious. The operation took longer than earlier anticipated. The doctor came out to tell us that the surgeon needed time to scrutinize and analyze the intestines which had collapsed due to earlier operations. Due to that fact, we were advised to return home or go for meal. 

He was given epidurals to suppress the pain and was gaining consciousness with slight hallucinations. The surgeon said that it was a normal consequence of epidural administration. He was happy with the operation and had no worries. His two assistants conveyed different messages. One especially was all the time using the word critical to me. Personally I was very confused with these mixed signals. I still wonder what they actually meant when they used the term 'stable'. Was it stable to mean getting better or stable as no change though critical? 

He became fully conscious on Monday but said that he was in pain. The doctors did not wish to have him overdosed with pain killers. They tried to make him comfortable but to no avail. He became moody and when the children came to visit he wanted them to leave early. He was visibly irritable and in great discomfort. He was disgruntled with the nurses and the doctors. His behavior was totally out of character and I had not seen this side of him before. Nothing I did or said was right. The doctors and nurses advised him to sit up, have the pillows popped up at his back. He refused. He said that he preferred to lie down. He was advised to have the oxygen tube inserted in his nostrils, he took it off the moment they left the room. What made him so angry was that the pain killer was not effectively working to reduce the pain. He kept on softly pressing a small soft pillow at his stomach. Fortunately by midnight he was able to snatch some short naps.

Early the next morning he told me he wanted to have mushroom soap. I checked with the nurse and she said he could have fluid foods. So I rushed home and had the mushroom soup boiled. He was ravenously swallowing the soup which I spooned to his mouth. I was touched by that because he was having his favourite soup. By 11 he was groaning with pain. I was worried if that was due to the soup he had earlier which could have upset his tummy. When he was calmer, I went home for lunch. Immediately I finished my zohor prayer I received a call from the surgeon saying that he was going to operate on him again. So I rushed to the hospital just in time to see him smiling at me and our children as he was wheeled into the operation theatre.

A Farewell.....

The 28th September was a significant day. It was his last admission to the hospital. That day, after lunch and after my brother bade him farewell, he complained of aches and slight bleeding and it was making him anxious. At his insistence, Alang drove him to the hospital again. He was rushed to the scanning unit to see whether they could insert stoppages to the holes in the intestines. The doctor could not do it because according to her there was insufficient bleeding. Insufficient bleeding indeed! When he came out he could still jokingly told Alang and I that it did not matter, the doctor was a beautiful looking lady! 

On Monday, in the ICU unit, he was very subdued. I knew he had already made up his mind for an operation. The doctor contacted his former professor at the University Hospital and arranged for a more thorough scrutiny of the condition of his intestines. We failed to get consultation appointment at the Selayang Medical Centre and my regret here is that I failed to think of seeking assisstance from friends to get an appointment. Everything was happening so fast around me that I failed to grab moments to think through on whatever decisions or actions taken. Personally, I could not agree to his decision. The 50/50 chance and his age minus point disturbed me and in my mind he should not opt for it. But each time I voiced out my hesitation and concern for it, he would quickly dismissed it. He was so positive of its outcome that he would talk cheerfully about the post operation to friends, like Jun and Kem, when they came to visit. If he had any worry he hid it very well. After each visit friends and relatives felt confident that everything was going to be alright.

The scanning procedure at The University Hospital went well. He was a referred case. The professionals were very nice, polite and proficient. The administrative staff, the receptionist and the clerks were very rude! One in particular made me feel like a beggar. I asked one of the surgeons who attended to him what could be the cause of his problem. She said that most probably it could be the term taking of pain killers. We in the family knew that he had been taking lots of pain killers for whatever ailments and he loved self prescribing himself. There were occassions he prescribed medications for my ills too.

Before his operation scheduled on Friday, the 2nd of October, the surgeon came to discuss the procedure. He began with the caution but he was optimistic that he could do it and everything would be okay. Then came the visit of the cardiologist who did the echo test and concluded that his heart could take in the operation. Lastly came the anaesthetist. The colon cleansing regimen was the most tedious and pityful. He was bleeding so much that made him lifeless. He was growing more quiet and preferred the room to be dimlighted. He was obviously listless and showed no interest in what was in the news. Before this he would listen intently on the news I read to him in the newspapers. On the morning of the operation he was perky and sounded excited after his early morning bath.

A farewell.....

My husband used to be saying to me, ' if I could have my wish, I would wish to die without a dragging long illness which would incur lots of trouble to people having to look after me.' The way he left us was like Allah Granted his wish. He became ill so suddenly at midnight on the 17th September 2010. He woke me up complaining of terrible stomach ache. As I normally responded to that complaint I massaged his tummy the way I had learned to do to ease a constipated stomach pain. At the same time I nagged him for consuming so much grate fruit earlier for dinner. He then said that he had to let out but soonest he was  yelling out that he was bleeding profusely and that he was feeling faint. I called for Zaroff to help me as his body was going limp. Zaroff was watching television in the tv room upstairs. He rushed and together we cleansed him and carried him to the bedroom couch because he had already fainted. I administered the tiny pill under his toungue thinking that he was having a heart attack. Immediately he opened his eyes and gave me a sweet tired smile. In the meantime Asrul and Alang had come and had called for the ambulance and we managed to admit him to the ICU unit by 2am. The specialist said he had lost a lot of blood and needed bottles of blood transfusions. By Friday he was discharged well and smiling and on Saturday insisted I drove him to the wet market at section 14 because he wanted to buy crabs for the children who were coming for our weekly family dinner. And of course he ate the crabs more than the children did. On Sunday afternoon, he had a second attack. This was more sudden than the first one. He had no time to rush to the bathroom. He was bleeding in the bedroom and he fainted in my arms before he could sit down. I put his head on the floor and searched for the heart tablet again. Seconds later he opened his eyes and smiled. After cleaning up we again had the ambulance take us to the hospital. I told the doctor that this time he had too much crabs. The doctor dismissed the gratefruit or the crab cause to the problem. He did some scans and concluded that he was suspecting something wrong with his small intestines as his colon was clear. He offered three options. One was of course an operation to remove the damaged intestines but considering his age, the doctor was not keen on it as that would be a 50/50 chance of survival.The second option was to let it be and just rush to the hospital each time a bleeding occured to get blood transfusions. The doctor told me that what I did in putting his head on the floor each time he fainted was the right thing to do. The worst thing would be to put him in a sitting position. By having his head flat at body level was to allow the blood and oxygen to rush to his head. The doctor was in favour of that option although it entailed a lot of inconvenience. He would have to remain confined to the house as the bleeding would happen anywhere and very fast. On the other hand, he said that the problem might just disappear with time. There had been cases where the bleeder or bleeders would just heal itself. My husband did not like the idea of the inconveniences involved in the second option. The third option was to rush the hospital while bleeding and they could gun stoppages to the holes once they could see the bleeders through the scan. That would be very chancy. With that options in mind he was discharged two days after the second bleeding. He was cheerful on Saturday morning when our friend, Jun and Dato Kamaruzzaman came to visit. He was talking about playing golf and travelling again. In my mind I was thinking, ' this cannot be real he must be kidding'. On Sunday morning, my brother, Dr Bahari came as I had phoned earlier to ask for his opinion. My brother told of the tremendous risks of having the operation. He said he had consulted a few of his specialist friends about such operations. With my husband he was very diplomatic and entertained my husband's ramblings about his plan for an operation.

A farewell.

For the first time in my life I looked at death in the face at 5.31pm on 12th October 2010. I watched how life was slowly leaving the body of my husband. After whole day of chaotic readings of his blood pressure and heart beats, by 3 pm, his heart beats were so fast and his pressure was dropping so fast that by evening I observed that the ends of the fingers and his lips were turning blue and soon he was gone. Before that with my brother, Dato Dr Bahari Awang Ngah and my brother in law Dr Zulkifli and I were taking turns to read the 'syahadah' into his ears. I had my son, Radin Asrul, besides me throughout the last hours. Some family members were also around. Remembering what I had learned in my religious classes, I managed to command the strength to face the reality of the situation and not break down. I slowly covered his face and said my silent farewell to the man with whom I have shared 48 years short of two months of my life with. That particular moment I acknowledged deep down in my heart that that was Allah's Will and it was time for him to return to his Creator and it was time for me to let go. 

I immediately told Asrul to arrange for his father's funeral that very same night. He alerted his brother Radin Alang, to liase with the mosque where his ablusions and the final prayer would take place. My son in law, Abu Zaharoff, made the police report with the death certificate from the hospital. I felt my body was shivering but I managed to keep calm to say my evening , Asar, prayer at the hospital accompanied by Asrul's mother in law, Puan Rohani. While his body was being cleansed by the hospital, Zaroff drove me home to pick up my other grandchildren at home. We arranged for the funeral to be after the 'isyak' prayer. The whole family went to the Taqwa Mosque at Taman Tun Dr Ismail for our first night prayer. When I arrived there, I was greeted by so many of our friends which was so touching. To mind I remember greeting Tan Sri Halim Saad, Tan Sri Mohd Nor Yusoff, Tan Sri Desa Pachi, Tan Sri Hashim Aman and many more.  My sons gave their father his final bath and with all my siblings and close friends I did my farewell prayer. We then left for the funeral rites at Bukit Kiara cemetry. Many friends also attended the funeral. Many of my class mates came to attend the burial ceremony. To mind I remember meeting Tun Ahmad Sarji, Dato Shaari Jabar and Datin kalsom, Dato Sulaiman Osma and Datin Norfiah, Tan Yusoff Hitam and wife, Dato Kamaruddin Mahmud and many others. 

I was trying very hard to focus on the burial rites as I would not want to miss up on anything. It was very sad to see my sons all there to receive their father's  body and to bury him. I felt so proud of them for being so brave yet silently must be feeling so broken inside. They were close to their father and were at his bedside every night when he was sick in hospital. At the corners of my eyes I could see my young grandchildren, 10 year old Afyq, 6 year old Raeyn and Ian and my 4 year old Fytri looking around in wonderment not fully able to grasp the meanings of whats going around them. They were traumatised for a long time as a result of that wonderment especially Afyq who cried loudly before we finally wrapped the body for the funeral. After we left, Ustaz Hussein Yee came with his group of students to bid farewell with a prayer. 

I felt confident burying the same night was the right thing to do. In the hadis our Prophet did say that the burying of the dead should not be delayed. The caretakers of the Bukit Kiara burying ground were ever ready to do the job at any time of the day. The place was lighted up for the purpose. Some relatives suggested we should have taken him home first. But to me that is only a sentiment we can do without. So, personally I have no misgivings about that. My children were all in aggreement, so thats that. We also did not have any tahlil sessions during the subsequent nights because we want to do things according the Prophet's Sunnah. For the first night we held sessions of night prayers together followed by a Tazkirah given by Hussein Yee which gave us a very meaningful understanding of death as mentioned in the Quran and Hadith. It helped to anchor my faith that whatever happened if death were to take place, it will take place. Nothing could deter it. Sinking in that fact for a fact made the burden of ' what ifs' a little easier. Otherwise I could lose myself in 'what if I had not agreed for him to do the operation?', what if I had taken him to seek another specialist?', or ' what if we had gone to another hospital?'. As a family we continued to pray together for several nights after that. 

Even now I do wonder if I did the right thing in not breaking down or shed a tear during the whole day and night. I was consciously trying to be very brave in front of the children. I did not wish to allow myself to lose myself and break down even though I was broken up in pieces with grief inside. Maybe because of that bottle up emotions, I had it so bad during the following days and months. 

A Farewell To My Beloved

Even though I managed to overcome my grief eventually, it was immensely tough at the beginning. The toughest was the first six months. Inside of me I felt completely numb. At the very pits of my being I felt aches and pain which was indescribable. Its a very mixed feelings of loss, longing, misgivings and endless yearnings which would leave me breathless and suffocated, with physical pains which left me totally fatigued. Living became mechanical. With people around, even family members I was feeling neither here nor there. Food became tasteless and as a result I lost 10 kilos in two weeks. Continuing to look after his garden became my life line. Whats left of my passion for life I put into my gardening because he loved his garden. At one point it became really bad that I had to seek a psychatric advice from a friend of my brother, Dr Zahari Ngah, who is a consultant in London. This psychatrist friend diagnosed meas suffering from panic attacks as a result of depression over the loss. After a few weeks of medication, I began to function normally well enough to reattend my religious and Quranic language classes and could find joy in gardening. I sometimes and still do wonder if it is the other way around, would he be missing me that much? Will he suffer as I have suffered?  Knowing man, I honestly doubt it. It is the women left behind by the husbands that suffer the most. I suppose it is in the nature of things. I asked my friends with similar situations and the answer is all the same. The aches are still there deep down. Dato Rahmah Jamaluddin, who lost her husband 22 years ago said that the feeling is as though her husband  'only left yesterday'. Datin Asiah Ibrahim,  another close friend, also said the same thing but consolingly said that it got better with time. So it is the process that we have got to through and the differenceis only in the degree and the depth of the pain and thus the healing process and the healing periods may differ. 

My Love For Travel

Travelling is in my blood. It has been with me since I was a small girl. Going somewhere has always been an adventure of sorts. My late husband fully acknowledged this fact. When I was working he did not mind my going outstation to work. After I retired I used to join friends to visit foreign countries and the new experiences I felt were like fulfilling a thirst. That fascination lives on after my husband passed on and was an antidote to my grieving soul. 

The healing worked in mysterious ways. When I revisited London in December 2012, with my grand daughter, Radin Eliyana, and stayed with my eldest grandchild, Nur Ayne Faeza, I revisited the places and the shops I used to go with my late husband and relived the moments we were there together. After those relived moments I could physically feel my body lifted and my soul serene. My longing would no longer be with choked feelings in the throat and tears welding in my eyes. 

I treated my grand daughters to the very same Thai Restaurant at Oxford Street we went to in 1986 and ordered the same dishes and literally looked in my mind's eye at the happy moments of 1986. Those were just fleeting moments. My grand daughters were not even conscious of my momentary sojourn. I would then focus on our current happy, chatty times together with them. We really had a lovely lunch, lovely time together and lovely sharings. My husband used to love going for walks at the Hyde Park. In December Ayne's flat was at Lancaster gate, just across the road to Hyde Park. We very often walked across or in Hyde Park itself. First time I stepped my feet on Hyde Park, I felt nostalgically sick but as I moved on silently alone in my thoughts of those yester years, I began to feel better and towards the end of our stay I was able to sing his favourite songs loudly when it was my turn to sing with tears in my heart. To my grand daughters my songs were old songs unfamiliar to them. To me songs like Nat King Cole's ' when I Fall in love' and P Ramlee's ' Di Manakan Ku Cari Ganti' are songs of my soul and forever green in my heart. My late husband loved shopping. He had his favourite shops. I revisited those shops and sat at the same spot where we had tea at the shop's restaurant and felt better. After all those revisits, the city was no longer a place I earlier feared to visit. During my visit to the United States in August 2013, I was able to do the same during our stay in New York. My husband was particular about our accommodation. My daughter in law and my son took pains to ensure that our places of stay were comfortable, beautiful and practical. Our hotel, ' the New Zealand Hotel'  on 57th Avenue was a beautiful place. I used to walk up and down the Avenue alone lost in my own thoughts and memories and thereby slowly healed my loss and I feel stronger for it. The place is no longer daunting. I was so afraid before the journey that I might spoil my children's holiday if I would just spend time mopping around. I am so grateful that it did not happen that way. I had a wonderful holiday, in fact one of the best holidays I have had, visiting Radin Eliyana at The Le High University, Bethelemn, Pennsylvania. My latest travel was to Langkawi on the 9th of December 2013, when I treated my daughter and my four grandchildren together with my two sisters, my nephew and his family. My earlier visit with my husband in 2003 on a treat by Radin Azlan, my youngest son. I was able to mentally view that earlier visit from a distance that no longer pained the heart. The happiness imbued during those two visits were different. The earlier visit was just the two of us. We found joy in each other's company. The recent visit was a joyous time with my grandsons and grand daughter. We sat on the beach to watch the beauty of the sunsets and let our bodies being massaged by the waves. We then swam in the swimming pool, had races with each other even though I ended up the last. We also tested who could stay in the water the longest. We teased each other and laughed so much so we felt aches in our stomachs. Company of the young could be so exhilarating and consuming because every time the water splashed on our faces and every time our boat moved in our mangrove adventure, they laughed. They could find joy in the tiniest of things out of the ordinary. Being with that hunger for adventure and curiosity is simply satiating. Looking at things with their eyes is actually seeing beauty even in very ordinary things. To Fytri, my 7 year old grand daughter, a plastic pendant in the shape of the heart, could be so beautiful. She wears it and feels beautiful and dignified with it just because she has paid for it with her own savings from her pocket money and treated it as though it was like an expensive diamond pendant. There is endless joy when a child starts collecting shells on the beach. 

I derive a different joy when I travel nowadays. Its no longer just the happiness of being in different places but its the company and the bondings that I have with my children and grand children with my siblings and their families that I look forward to in my travels. This is a kind of joy many of my friends experience too, which is indescribable in words.

My very own passion in life

My passion for exercise has lasted for a very long time. I remember way back in 1975 when my sister in law, now Datin Rudiah Hj Arshad, and got for ourselves a big thick cover book on Yoga. On our own we practised the yoga poses. What we learned and began to practise are yoga' physical poses and never delved into the spiritual aspects. I cannot say anything for Datin Rudiah whether she still does the Yoga. As for me Yoga stays with all these years and if I have no time to do the full regime, I just spend just 10 minutes of breathing and stretching exercises just before my evening bath or before sleep. Believe me yoga could lift up your spirit and leaves behind a body feeling calm. It has become second nature to me whenever and where ever I feel stressed with short breathes, I just take deep breathes, in to the count of 10, hold breathe for another 10 and breathe out for another 10. Just do it for as number of times as needed until calmness sets in. The longer the breath counting and the more times one does it the better the effect will be. I would start doing the poses once I am calm otherwise I could hurt my body and causes unnecessary physical aches and pains. I found it very helpful especially after a strong breakdown or crying.

My husband used to call me an exercise freak. I am rightly so I presume. Whatever it is, when he rennovated our house in 1987, he built a gym and sauna room. Even though he never said so, the gym and the sauna must be for me. I would like to presume so. Even today my gym is a very special place for me. When I was younger I had to go the Lake Club to be trained by a young trainer, Hayat. From him I learned a lot of tips on how to do the cardio exercise,  the weghts for muscle building and stretching warming up and cooling down exercises. Now at home, I do the treadmill and stationary bicycle cardio exercise. Every time I exercise, I begin with simple stretches, then on to the treadmill, finishing with the weights and cooling down stretches. To break and prevent boredom from setting in when doing the same routines each time, I put in variety in the approaches. Once I get bored with doing 5 minutes of slow with 1 minute of fast I would then have longer fast runs. It is very important to avoid boredom. Boredom could be an antithesis to what I would have wished to achieve from the exercises. I personally discovered that I need to love exercising, without that feeling of love, I would not have benefitted, I would fail to get that feeling of high and instead I would feel aches and pains. During my routines which take three days in a week, I would listen to my tapes of my Quranic Language lessons or tazkirah by ustaz Kariman, or I would spend time to memorise the Quranic verses or just listen to the radio. During my heavy grieving period at the very beginning of my husband's passing, my gym became my sanctuary and my exercise became a friend. I love this friend which has always been there for me and has helped me to sustain my health and well being. Without this friend, I  might have been overcome by neurosis. 

During my younger days I was crazier in my physical activities. I went for Tai chis, did aerobics once a week at the Lake Club and loved to swim. During my crazy days I used to swim during lunch breaks as my office at Damansara Govenrment complex was quite close to the Lake Club and if I had to attend dinner functions. But actually the best time to swim would be in the evenings. Nowadays I no longer swim that much. I feel there is a lot of hastle to do it. No more aerobics as the knees are no longer that strong. I found Tai Chi boring. I still have a lot of literature of these exercises. I still keep the tapes and videos.

My very own passion in life

The Quranic verses have become my constant companion in life nowadays. I would mentally read the verses whenever I am driving, or when I am gardening, or when I am looking at the sky or the clouds out of my window. When I was in New York walking down the streets or having my coffee at the Starbucks and not surfing the internet on my phone, I would memorise the Surah ArRahman mentally while my eyes were observing the people walking outside. Sometimes I feel I am wierd but that habit does not really bother me. It rather makes me happy and sometimes high. Arabic Language has two aspects which could be very challenging mentally and that is the configuration of the verbs and the grammatical nuances. Mastery of the verb configuration could be very difficult and frightening. Many give up learning the subject because of fear of it. The wonderful part of it is that once you crystalise the patterns, the fear just dissipates. With me the understanding of the puzzles came one day like a bang bang boom after years of plodding through what could not make sense at all. It happened at the point when I was about to give up. I bought and read through most of the grammar books recommended by friends. I joined a number of discussion groups of friends who are really good in the language. I put aside my ego and shyness and openly admitted my need of help. I strongly believed that God must have listened to my prayers for enlightenment. Once the understanding came like a bang like that I held on to it closely to my heart. Even today I would be mentally conjucating and configuring Arabic verbs and grammar just like I do in memorising the Quranic verses. This passion and committment has helped me tremendously during my earlier grieving moments. I am ever so grateful for those crazy and difficult years of hanging on. My beloved husband knew of my passion for the Arabic verbs and he used to make fun of me saying ' you and your qala and qalu' which means ' he has said and they have said'. Even at the point of writing this I am still as fascinated as I was at the beginning of my relationship with the language.

My very own passion in life.

Besides going to classes three times a week, I also spend time sharing whatever little knowledge I have of the Quran with my daughter, my sisters and my friends. On Mondays I spend time with my former University mates, Yun, Asiah and Marina. On Monday and Wednesday afternoons I have sharings with my sister, Hapsah and Zainun and my daughter Ayu. On Friday mornings I spend two hours with my former student Hanem. My classes are on Tuesday, Wednesday and Thursday mornings. All these sessions fill up my weekdays. On Saturdays and Sundays I tend to my personal requirements. On top of all these I am trying to memorise certain surahs and verses which is going on a very slow pace. I am in no hurry quite happy if I could memorise just a few words a day which I would go over in my head whenever I am not attending to anything in particular. I do not put any specific targets nor do I have any specific expectations. So there is no pressure there. Each night before I sleep I would make it a point to memorise verses until I fall asleep. How I approach my memorisation is by repeating six times, until I remember. I would then also write down on pieces of paper verses I have successfully memorised. I would then read the verses in my prayers.

My very own passion in life

After my confinement of 4 months and 10 days' period was over, I continued my Quranic language classes three days a week. At this point of time my mastery of the grammar has slightly advanced and the joy and passion for the subject has deepened. I just cannot begin to put into words the joy I feel each time I read any verse in the Holy Book. The ustaz who I am learning from is now spending more time doing analysing the sentence structures, delving into word nuisances, giving deeper and various shades of meanings of the verses in the Holy Book. Thats why I cannot begin to understand why some people for instance can say that verses 2:102, 3:31, and 12:4 could be used to charm the husbands when the real meanings have nothing to do with what it is said to be doing. Take for instance verse 3:31. In this verse Allah said to Prophet Mohammed, ' tell them oh Mohammed, if you love Allah, so you follow me, Allah will always love you and will always forgive all your sins and Allah is all Forgiving and all Loving.' So where is the meaning of God trying to tell women how to subjugate their husbands. I feel that The more I studied the more enlightened I am and yet I am fully aware of the fact that no human soul could or would possiblly be able to fully fathom Allah' real meanings of his Words in the Holy Book. Every letter, every word, every phrase and every verse is especially placed and arranged for reasons only He knows. We humans could only attempt to begin to understand rightly or wrongly. Thats the best we could ever attempt to do. The least that we humans could do is to master the basic grammar. Thats a big challenge already for anybody. To me, attempting to meet that basic challenge is already all consuming. That all consuming nature in the study of the Quranic language has had that calmimg effect on my griefs and loneliness for my beloved husband since his passing.  It acts like a balm to my grieving soul. Understanding the Al Quran and getting close to my Creator slowly has the effect of making me accept the reality of life and death. Never for a moment did I ever doubted Allah' s Will in this. At the same time I could neither deny my missing him so as well as the real aches I feel in my heart for him. But through my studying the Holy Book and understanding the message in it, the aches in my heart began to slowly heal. Now it gets better everyday. I sincerely thank Allah for His continious Guidance and not abandoning me during my moments of doubts and confusion. 

Getting to know my new friend, The Computer.

To edit my husband's book I need to know how to use the computer. I could not allow myself to depend on the type writer as he did when he was writing his memoir. Fortunately for me I had learned how to use the computer, which I assume that most people of my age think that the computer is difficult to master as it is suitable only for the young. I was once in that group. Only my grand daughter, Ayne, managed to lure me into growing to get close to it. I must say she was so patient with me. She detailed the steps from the beginning like no.1 press 'o' for power, then no 2, press the mouse at Safari and so on and on until you are ready to start writing your e mails and have them sent. She wrote down the steps on a piece of paper and then watched while I followed the steps written by her. That first stage was full of apprehension and exhilaration. The feeling of achievement was like the feeling after your baby was  out of your body when she or he was born. What was needed I suppose was an acceptance on my part that I could not be too proud to learn from my grand daughter and to acknowledge that to the young people, like her, the computer was a fun thing with which they could relate to as a matter of fact in life. Even today my 10 year old grandson, Raeyn, knows what to do with his I Pad more than I know what to do with mine. 

So when I was editing the book, writing letters to the various people in the publishing business, I was actually feeling high. I felt young again. I felt like a professional. There were letters to write and people to contact. I contacted constantly a few friends like Tan Sri Raymond Navaratnam, spoke to Tun Hanif Omar, Tan Sri Rama Iyer and Miss Wong Radin's former secretary. Having to do so many things, I no longer felt so lonely as I would have been if I was to be doing nothing but thinking and missing him. My mind became totally focused on the project and with Ayne and Ezryn we single handedly managed the whole project with only ocassional consultations with my sons and daughter and much later with Eleanor, our book designer. It took us a year to do it from the very beginning to the moment of having the books in boxes ready for the bookshops. There were moments of joy, moments of sadness, moments of pride, moments of gratitude, and moments of humility because every moment we spent on the book were moments of special dedication to our beloved and a very dear person in our lives. It was very plain to us that the three of us were grieving the loss in our very own way. Especially so when the three of us together we spent the last few days and the last few hours with him in the hospital and we read the 'Yassin' together to him. At the end of it all it was our loving committment to get the book out by December 2011, that gave us the strength to see it through. 

Moving on

When my beloved husband passed on I thought my life has come to an end. I had had such such a dependent life on him. He took care of everything, personal and non personal stuff. I had imagined a very lonely life without him. No social life what so ever. My three boys have moved out and living in their own homes with their families. My daughter, Ayu and her husband Zarof, were living in Aberdeen just before he fell ill and they were planning to live on their own too when they were returning and he was already ill in hospital. So I thought after his demise they would still pursue their plan. Fortunately for me not so much for them maybe, Zarof agreed to stay on in the house with me.

Then Ezryn, our second grand daughter, chose to sleep with me. Ayne our first grand daughter who was waiting to go to University College London, also became my room mate. I was not feeling so lonely as I thought at the beginning. And now since both have left home, my two younger grand children, Raeyn and Fytri, are my room mates. Ezryn left to pursue a Mathematical Science course in the International Islamic University in Kuantan and Ayne is in London doing her 3rd year Medical course. So I am still not so lonely as I thought I would be.

At the beginning I had to observe the staying at home period for 4 months and 10 days after his passing. That is prescribed in the Holy Book, The Al Quran. God Knows best. I never would have thought that if I was confined like that life would and could be so reflective and calming to the soul. Thats why I said God Knows best. I spent the time welcoming friends who visited me to extend their condolences. I sincerely felt I would have welcomed more friends. The more I shared my feelings of loss the better I felt. I either broke down after they had visited or during the visits but either times the breaking down made me feel better and better. It was during one visit by our old friend, Dorian Ball, that started the change. Dorian was closely working with my husband over Diana, the shipwreck project. He was a real gentleman conveying his condolence in a very dignified manner yet very personal. We then talked about my husband'scontributions to the service and all the other stuff. I then remembered the memoir that my husband wrote and kept in the drawer of his writing table somewhere. Dorian practically jumped out of his chair and managed to get a promise out of me to post to him the manuscript. We both agreed that before we started planning anything, we had at least to read it and see whether its a readable piece. I related to Dorian how my husband was writing the book and I choked and broke down. But again that was a good thing. It made me feel better.

Soon then I was busy looking for the manuscript and rearranging them with the help of Ayne and Ezryn, we managed to type into the computer. That two weeks' process kept me busy and the feeling of loneliness took a different shape.

Reading through while typing, I was reliving through my life with him all over again. It was like watching a movie. There were of course very sad moments. At the same time there was this feeling of gratitude and joy realising that I was actually his love of a lifetime which I had not imagined was there in him. It was like a kind of his life dedication of love for me as being unfolded through his work and service as he wanted so much that I should be proud of him. Maybe I had imagined that, but that was the effect the writings in the manuscripts had on me. So much so I felt sad yet happy and grateful at the same time. To me those retyping days were good grieving moments for me and made me emotionally stronger. I then had the manuscripts sent over to Dorian and he in turn sent it to his friend,Steven, in Australia. The three of us agreed that the piece was worth publishing.

I was then busy contacting the publishing houses. That was a very trying process because each one of them had their rules and conditions. After contacting one printing firm recommended by Sharon, my sister in law, my children and I decided to publish it ourselves through our very own family holding company, the R Soenarno Holding Company Sdn Bhd. With the help of Eleanor, Zarof's niece, we managed to get the design and the release from the National Library. Then we had to launch the book. I was again kept busy. With luck we managed to get the honour of our dear old friend, Tun Ahmad Sarji bin Abdul Hamid, Chairman of PNB, to launch the book. Among the guests who we invited to the launch were a group of my former students from Sekolah Alam Shah, Cheras, and The Tengku Kursiah College. That occassion started my relationship with my former students ever since then these relationships have made my life ever so interesting and fun.

Dinner with my former Alam Shah Students

On the 29th of November 2013, a few of my students organised a dinner meet at the Petroleum Club Tower 2, hosted by Dato Abdullah who is secretaryof the club. The venue was beautiful. When I took the lift passing through 2 security checks alone by myself, I had a good feeling I was going to have fun that night. 11 students came for the dinner, a few could not make it as they have prior arrangements for something. This group of students and I meet for lunches once in 3 or 4 months at different venues with one of them sponsoring. Next year insya Allah we agree to go dutch.

That night, Tan Sri Halil and Nabihah, Tan Sri Shamsuddin and Normah, Dura and Wahid, Rus dan Rushdi, Dato Azizan and Yam and Dato Lah came. There was nothing formal about our gathering. We joked and teased each other. There was so much laughter. Honestly there were moments that I could feel young again. Most of us had steaks, while most of the menfolk had grilled cod.

After our slow and easy dinner, we adjourned for our desserts at the lounge. Some of us wanted to sing and Dato Lah started his medley of dangdut songs. I was surprised to hear that Sam could render a number of lovely songs. So is Puan Sri Nabihah. Dura too sang well. I was getting nervous as they would soon request me to sing. I have not been singing for years. I braved myself singing my recent favourite, a song by M.Nasir, 'Kepada mu Kekasih'. Glad I managed to render it quite well. Then I sang my husband's favourite song all his life, ' when I fall in love' and when I sang that song I did it with all my feelings of love for him in my heart. Memories of our moments together flashed through my mind fleetingly.

We got carried away with enjoying the moments. We bade each other goodnite at 1.30 am and after getting ready, I finally slept at 2.30 tired but happy. A big thank you to my students.