My dadi (grandma) passed on and was found lifeless on the 9th March 2016, a Wednesday morning. It was believed that she passed on in the wee hours of the morning, peacefully in her sleep.
My mom called me up at work that morning after I was done with my first class at around 9.15am. Seeing her number on my phone, my worry level spiked up. My mom will not call me during work unless it was absolutely important. I was right. The call was totally unexpected. I could hear my mom's voice shaking as she spoke. My dadi was her mom. Reality hit her hard.
This entry is hence dedicated to my dadi...
Dear Dadi,
It has been about 9 days since you've left us.
I remember the last moment I saw you. You looked like you were still sleeping. I refused to accept the fact that you were gone for quite a while. I kept thinking that you will wake up soon. You are probably just pranking us all. You will open your eyes and say, 'Haha... I tricked you!'
I didn't cry Dadi. It's only 2 days after my birthday, Dadi. You gotta be kidding right? I did whatever that was necessary, Dadi. Whatever anyone needed of me for you. You were sick, I know that, but you were not suffering from those chronic diseases. I always had faith that you will recover and be able to walk around soon.
It was only when we doing doing the last prayer for you that I felt my tears trickled down my cheeks unintentionally. These tear ducts seem to have a mind of their own. Why are you still not waking up Dadi? This prank is going on way too long. I wiped away my tears after the final salam. This is not funny Dadi. I will not accept this.
Then, we made our way to your final resting place. My heart was starting to get heavier then. The journey there seemed to be longer than usual this time round. Is this seriously happening? No, this is just a dream, I will wake up soon and Dadi will still around.
When your body was lowered to the ground, I could no longer hold back my tears. I still could not believe it Dadi. Wake up Dadi. Get up, Dadi. Time to open your eyes and we can all go home with you. But it was not happening.
I wanted to be one of the last to leave. I counted my step before turning back and looking at your final bed. I seek from Allah to ask His angels to be kind to you if this was real.
Then the weekend came. I was checking my schedule when I saw what I wrote in planner, 'Date With Dadi'. That was when it finally hit me Dadi, that you are seriously no longer around. You were not kidding. You had returned to Him.
No more paying you a visit. No more annoying you. No more teasing you. No more laughing with you. No more arguing with you. No more reasoning with you why I prefer plain water and not any flavoured drinks. No more of sooo many other things that I will only do with you.
I had planned to buy you some scarves that day for you so that you can wear them. I also wanted to present you with some new scarves that you can wear for the Eid. I wanted to do some styling with you so that you'll look super amazing, better than special.
Wait... You're no longer around this Eid. Where are we gonna gather to see you? You're supposed to cook that famous rendang of yours that I will only at your place. You cook the best rendang in the whole wide world. You mean 2015's Eid was the last Eid I spent with you? But you were strong back then Dadi. What happened?
You're one strong lady, Dadi. You're fierce. You're many many more that I could not bring myself to type them down right now.
Dadi,
I am accepting your return as a temporary separation. I believe in fate, that you were borrowed to us for a limited time and now, it's your time to return to Him. I understand that in due time, we too will return to Him and will be reunited, Dadi, In Shaa Allah.
For you, the rest of us will be praying and presenting the best doa for you after our prayers, along with the rest who have returned before us. When our time comes to reunite, I do hope, we reunite as a happy family, preferably in the jannah with Dada by your side, in shaa Allah. I miss him too, Dadi.
Love,
Your grand daughter who is missing you dearly here,
Mimi
