The best Gift to Give is Love

To the lady who gave me the gift of life,

Roseminah Ali @ Abdullah (aka Mummy)
born Feb 11 1959
loved tennis, chess, writing poems, the Malay language, being with her children, being a filial wife, being with her friends, video editing, talking, laughing (more like roaring laughter, can’t believe I used to be embarrassed by that. Now I’m the one with roaring laughter).

I don’t know how to begin.


I miss you.


So so dearly…


I’ve never really blogged about this before, but I think tonight is right.


Almost exactly 8 years ago (overshot by a couple of hrs), I was highlighting notes in my History textbook, then I went in to see you, all our relatives stood silently by your bed. That was the night, the most painful night I had to watch, the night I cried till I had literally no tears left. The next day I couldn’t cry anymore. As sad as I felt watching you as a 12-year-old, the tears refused to come out.

“What happened to your eye?” a friend asked the next day.
“I was watching too many sappy movies,” I said with a smile.


11 Feb 2000 (Mummy’s 41st Birthday)

You were sitting in the black, resting chair in your room staring into space. I came in with a measly birthday card.

“Happy Birthday Mummy,” I said with a smile as I gave you the card and sat on your lap.

You told me bapak bought you a new set of comforters for your birthday.

“I don’t want anything for my birthday I just want to get well!” you desperately said.

My heart started to shatter. I didn’t want to think it was real at all, but it was. I was obviously unaware of how much more it hurt for you.

You read my card and embraced me tightly, “I love you very, very, very much…” You repeated those words for the next few weeks.

I hugged you back knowing one day I might not be able to do it anymore. I dashed to my room, quickly closed the door, ran to my bed and buried my face in my pillow. I cried away. I cried and cried and cried. Will you still be around in the next 10 years? Will you get better? How much longer do you have?


I saw you go bald from the effects of chemo. It never occurred to me how serious the disease was. I was 12 and stupid. If only I were smarter, I would’ve spent every waking moment trying to please you and make you happy. If only I were smarter! So so stupid!

One day you had to be admitted back to hospital. On the way there you looked alright, healthy. You went to the hospital… and never came back home. Somehow your condition worsened. Bapak constantly stayed by your side. I have so many questions. Were you ready for this at all? Why didn’t you share your pain with me? At least we could have gone through it together. You didn’t have to keep it to yourself… it would be less painful.

This night, 8 years ago, I sat by your side tearing away, constantly reading Al-Fatihah. Everyone was reading prayers for you. At this time, 25 Feb 2000, 4.17 am, you were struggling to stay alive. You were in great, great pain. Your eyes kept rolling back. You kept wincing. You couldn’t even talk anymore. It hurt to watch so much. Every few minutes, some yellow substance would excrete from your mouth and someone would clean it up for you.

I didn’t know what was happening to you, Mum. But I knew it wasn’t normal and it wasn’t good. All I could do was keep on crying and reading.

When it got late, it was time to go home. Abang and I had an exam the next day. I went over to your side, put my mouth really close to your ear and said, “I love you Mummy, I’m sorry I have to go. I have an exam tomorrow.” I gave you a kiss and didn’t want to let go. When outside I realized those might be my last words to you. I regretted not saying something more. Arghhh!!!!! LAST WORDS FOR GOD’S SAKE!!!

The next day, I couldn’t concentrate on my paper. Bapak stayed by your side the entire night tending to you. Repaying you back for all the years you’ve been faithful to him. In his own words, you are an example of a good wife. I second that.

On the way to the hospital, I started worrying. I didn’t want to miss your last moments. Mummy, please wait for me…

We quickly made our way to your ward. Angah was standing outside with Kak Mila. She turned and looked at us. I expected her to burst into a smile and tell us a miracle happened. Instead, she shook her head. My tears started flowing freely again. I slowly walked into your ward, and saw you lying there motionless.

You looked so peaceful, almost angelic. I blame this all on myself. I think it happened to you because of my sins Mum. I’m sorry.

Your face was purple, your lips were blue, you were bald, veins popped in every direction. You already left. But I understand Mummy. It’s time to take a rest, no more pain. You held on to the pain for too long. Were you waiting for me and abang to come back? I’m glad you went first. It would’ve been a lot more painful if you tried to hold on longer.

I kissed you for the very very last time. To repay for your 12years of endless dedication to showering abang and I with love. For all those nights you kissed us goodnight because "you never know if I don't get to see you in the morning." I planted my lips on your cheek for what seemed like forever and ever. In my head, I played my ideal last words in hope you could hear me.

“Rest mummy. I love you very very very very very much…”

As I pulled away, tears streamed down my face. And I don’t know if it was just me, but I saw a tear roll down your cheek.

Thank you for the 12 years you raised me. It was short but every moment spent was nothing short of a fantasy. You are and forever will remain in our hearts and minds. Goodnight, Mummy.

Love,
Tasha, Athir, and Bapak

Roseminah Ali @ Abdullah
11 Feb 1959 – 25 Feb 2000