Innalillahi wa inna ilaihi rojiun.
Nine days after he passed away, it still feels surreal. There’re still some moments when reality has hit me hard and I’ve realised he’s gone forever.
He was 65. His health had been deteriorating for the last one year. Moreover after my brother’s wedding early this year. Did I mention on previous post that my brother told the family about the wedding plan only six months before the date? And did I mention that he was papa’s favourite child? And he was the last of the sibling-hood to get married? Thinking about it now, Allah really is the best of planners. And deep inside my heart, I had had a feeling for it, but never thought it would be this soon.
He passed away when my plane took off, or was about to. And somehow I knew, it could be happening when I was flying. Hence I did not switch the airplane mode on until I passed CKG’s immigration. It was when I was waiting for the luggage alone ( Toto went to ATM), all the messages from my aunts and cousins popped up on locked-screen and words of “RIP” and “Innalillahi” were read. For a few seconds my mind went blank. I was not crying. I rather felt numb.
A man’s rank in paradise will be elevated, so he will ask, “how did I achieve this?”. It will be said to him, “as a result of your child seeking forgiveness for you.” – Prophet Muhammad SAW.
My family’s story was complicated. He might not be a perfect father, but above all I was far from being a good daughter. I used to have 101 reasons and answers for that, but now he was gone, those reasons sound meaningless. And I’m left heartbroken.
I know tears and regrets won’t help me and him anything. Especially him. I regret many things, yes of course, but for my relief, as long as I am still breathing, I can still do much more good things for him. Allah indeed works in amazing way, don’t you agree? The life of my parents, it’s tangled, yet it’s shaped our characters, their children. In a certain way, I’m forever grateful for that.
My heart aches and I think it will never be healed. And maybe I don’t want it to be healed as it will constantly remind me for being a daughter I should have been for him. A daughter I should be for my mom, now my only door to Jannah.
I can’t recall exactly when, but during that moment of sadness and great loss, I contemplated a lot of things about life and relationship. About my purpose on earth. I reflected my 20+ years of adulthood and to tell you the truth, I am not proud of most of it. I had always thought I had been pretty decent as a human being, but come to thing about it again now, I know I wasted a lot of time, money, and energy on trivial stuff.
I am fully aware now that I am not only responsible for my afterlife, but at least for my parents’ and my husband’s , too. And how could I somehow help them if I myself do not live my life in a right way? I am not sure if I can call it a life-changing moment, but sure, this loss and regret I am feeling now gives me a firm life purpose. It’s not gonna be easy, I know, but I am trying.
Papa, I promise I’ll be a better person, a better daughter, everyday for the rest of my life. You named me Raudah, a name I carry with pride. It’s a reminder to me to always be good. That my name is my parents’ prayer, your duaa. Therefore, may the iman and the taqwa I have in me be a door for you to Jannah. May all the goodness I do be a shield for you from the Fire. And may my duaa, my prayers everyday be your garden of paradise in Al Barzakh. Aamiin.
Thank you, Papa, for the life I am having now.