Accessing self-expectations

AGE is catching up on me. I am heading towards the end of my 3-0 series.

I am scrolling FB in the middle of the night and wonder what have I done so far? I see friends entering entrepreneurial ventures, writing books, traveling and I am doing none of that. Friends from the (media) industry are going even further. New shows, new titles, more fame, limelight and all of that. I watch them achieve these, and I'm happy for them - maybe a slight tinge of jealousy too as I'm already almost 14 years away from that life I chose to leave behind. Some old friends from way back still keep in touch, many became strangers and then there are the new faces and raw talents that are quickly filling the screen and actively promoting themselves on social media - a platform that was not available for us back when. 

I DID choose to leave these behind. I did choose the better path for myself - Alhamdulillah - I am blessed with a great husband and lovely children. They keep me grounded - but I can't help but feel a little under-accomplished. It is not clear to me what kind of motivation I'm looking for. I don't have any clue about writing books - which could make me an author - nor do I have business acumen to make me a successful entrepreneur. 

When I first started out as a stay-at-home-mom, I found some time on my hands to dwell in my hobbies - like designing. I ended up designing stuffs for free and give them away as gifts when a family member needed a wedding card or a logo for a friend's new business venture. I guess designing is a tricky business to get into because it can get excruciatingly tedious especially when the clients are fickle. I decided then it should be a hobby and not 'work'.  I also had the opportunity to organise a charity event. And along the way another event for Muhajabbahs. None of these activities were generating income for me, but I was happy doing it. Some jobs needed to be done by people that don't always seek monetary reward. And I like to believe I'm privileged enough to be given that opportunity. I know I can do more, but I also ask myself if I'm doing it for the right reasons or for the recognition that I am lacking because of my status as a stay-at-home-mom.... 

I have 3 kids - one still a toddler. I wake up in the wee hours of the morning and make sure the kids prayed, showered and have their uniforms ironed and prepared for them. Then I go down to fix breakfast and lunch boxes. Then  I pick up the toddler and usher everyone into our car and head to school. A bad day would be realising my son went into the car without his shoes on - or forgetting lunch boxes. On most good days, we are on time, do our daily dhikir and then catch up and chit chat. When the opportunity arises, I share with the kids stories, lessons in life and motivate them. After dropping them off early at school (I am usually early, not punctual), I make my way home and cook lunch, fix the house and spend time with the toddler. Recently though, I have engaged in several morning activities which includes an additional spiritual enhancement class, a new hobby currently it's Arabic Calligraphy art and left a day or two in the week for socialising and catching up with the ladies in town. The week passes by quickly, leaving me fully exhausted but it doesn't end as the weekend activities continue on. The Friday morning sleep-ins are what I really look forward to and need, to re-energize myself for the following days ahead - with the light at the end of the tunnel being the kids' next school break. It doesn't seem very important, these little details I do everyday for the past 13 years - yet it keeps me happy and fulfilled - because the real recognition that I want is from Allah - every thing I do - for the kids and myself is for Him - and to gain His barakah and mercy. Yet sometimes I lose sight of my real motivation in the sea of people chasing and realising their duniya dreams. Maybe some people can have both and they do it so effortlessly Mashallah on them! - I can admit that I can't attain both my personal ambitions and this big job entrusted to me. Just this morning I told my children - there are many lawyers, engineers, doctors out there - they can be replaced at any time at work when not available - but a mother is only 1 - and she is for her family and her position, none can fill in. 

I will continue to seek the real meaning of happiness, peace and success - that I will look back one day and be proud of accomplishing. Maybe my 'recognition' lies in the success of my children - Allahuallam - and I'll be more than OK with that. I pray their path is easy for them, may Allah bless them with wisdom, intellect, faith, kindness, success in their lives forever and after. Ameen. 

Abah

Today I sent off my dad to the airport after he spent 5 days with us here in Dubai. 4 to be exact since he came in the evening last Monday, and all we had was dinner together. Still, that got me quite excited. I made him something local (kampung) in order to impress him with my culinary skills. Turns out he loves meat and was hoping I cooked meat as he was famished from the flight. The lemak daging salai was well received but I'm not sure what he thought about it as it was something new for him. We called it a night as I already made breakfast way ahead so that I have time to entertain them later tomorrow.

I wanted to document the trip, but now halfway writing I just wanted to let out how I am feeling now. A little bit lost. A lot sad. But I'm just so grateful to Allah swt for this amazing chance to spend time with him and recall his gentle and affectionate side that I have missed for years. I recalled being a child and when he was around he would take me out after work and give me a treat. He splurged on me when he can afford it. I remembered once when I was a tween and felt like dressing like a boy, he brought me to a local boutique and I got my wish to dress as a boy top to bottom. I know he loves me, but I didn't really understand why I couldn't be with him all the time.

Then it all stopped when he finally remarried after 18 years of bachelorhood to my stepmom who  already has 4 kids. There was no more daddy-daughter weekends anymore. I too quickly became a teenager and got absorbed with all the problems it came with. Then he had a son... and then all there was left, was memories. Several years later I tried to reconnect with him whenever I have the chance to visit him, but I never got him to myself anymore. He was someone's husband, someone's stepfather, father, etc. I couldn't just whisk him away if I wanted to. We parted and reconnected in between years but daddy-me times is history.

When I was around 15, I was quite out of control and finally fell out with my guardians. Things were changing around the household too as my beloved aunt married someone who didn't quite like me. I asked to go back to Abah and my wish was granted. The handover was official. My aunt handed out my bank account to him as my new legal custodian. My life just spiralled downwards since that day. At his rented home, I didn't have my own room but have to share with 4 other step siblings. They were always tight financially and it wasn't too long before he eyes on my bank account and sooner than I expected, the money my aunt has helped me saved all those times, were gone. I was helping them with rent and living expenses it seems. Not long afterwards, we were asked to leave the house and they moved to my stepmom's parents apartment. I was becoming more and more uncomfortable with these arrangements, preferring to sleep or stay in sympathetic friends' houses. The apartment was overcrowded, in a new area I am not familiar with. Soon, I was just shifting between friends' houses - The last straw was coming home to their apartment and found my dad lying down shivering from cold turkey, and my stepmom whispered that he was back on drugs. I couldn't forgive him for that. I took my bags and left the house and begged my aunt to take me in again just before O levels. But there was already a rift, and I could sense the place I used to call home is not the same anymore. The rules became stricter, more suffocating, I didn't get back the room I used to have by myself as my aunt started having children. I didn't feel welcome so I went out again, found a job and started renting places.

Alhamdulillah, I am where I am now because of those events. As Allah had planned it, his niece from his only sister in Pahang graciously offered to bring him here to see me after visiting me here herself twice last year. We reconnected and stayed in touch through FB. I've asked him before if he would like to visit me but he always turned it down saying he can't afford it as he would have to bring the others too. I admire his commitment to his new family - I know he tries as hard as he can to be better husband/father to them than he was to me and my mom, so I have to accept the fact that it's meant to be this way. For the past few years, it's just me and kids visiting his household and then we leave without any fond memories of that obligatory and much dreaded visit.

But last Monday, he took his first flight ever to see me - and I have my daddy again. He is not the grumpy, edgy, bitter man that he had become over the past years - he was talkative, kind, affectionate, open and cheerful. As with all my guests, I try my best to make them as happy as possible - brought him out shopping, sightseeing and eating out - we talked and talked in the car, at home and whenever possible really. I learned so much about him these past few days than I ever did in all my 38 years of living. I hear his pain, his past, his regrets and bitterness - but also hear about his dreams, his ambitions that went downhill after he chose the wrong path for himself. He paid for it dearly, losing his wife and children. I've never seen my mom after she left and never heard from her for years, but daddy was always there. He might not be there on daily basis. Not even on some weekends and maybe between a year or two - but I always wonder when he will be back again - and though I can't predict the timings - he always comes back.

I cried many times today and for many reasons - he left us today and I don't even know if we are ever going to have those moments again. I am not ungrateful - I am indeed blessed, but I cannot help to be emotional over 'losing' him again. InshaAllah, things will be very different next year when I visit him - and we plan to go to Pahang to be with his sister and family there. Selfishly, I hope it's just him and us. My children at least, have that right to have him all to themselves just once a year. It's not too much to ask, isn't it?

When I was younger, I had to struggle with my identity and sense of belonging - where do I belong - where do I feel more accepted? If I had a great time with abah that weekend, I feel reluctant and defiant towards my guardians as a way of rebelling. It was a confusing state of mind and children do think with their hearts and not their heads.

Now grown up with my own children, Alhamdulillah, I know how hard it is to raise a kid, and I will never know how it feels like raising other people's kids - I am eternally indebted to my guardians who are my real family - who will always have my back - who have always been there for me. However, my abah is still my flesh and blood and I cannot dismiss him from my life even if I wanted to. I have a great relationship now with my guardians, my abah and even my mom whom I reconnected with a few years back.

For the most part, I have the closure that I seek since I was a child. The missing puzzles are found. I learned a few things about Abah. He loves meat, he loves watching documentaries - he loves Frank Sinatra's "My Way" and asked if I knew the lyrics and if I could write it down for him. I quickly googled copied and pasted it on the whatsapp app that I recently installed for him so we could keep in touch. This evening though, as I felt time running out, I turned on the karaoke and let him sing "My Way" while I recorded it. I know this will be a video I will be playing over and over just to feel his warmth, his happiness, his joy during his stay here. The abah I knew when I was little. Today I was his little girl. We had a picture taken together this afternoon after lunch and we just stood next to each other - without realising both of us didn't extend an arm or an affectionate hug as daddies and children do. It was not intentional, but it just wasn't natural. My nosy (but I love her to death for this) cousin probed and directed us to do so. I leaned and tilted my head on his shoulder and could feel his chest and my eyes welling up. He was wearing a cologne that I wish could linger a little longer now.

Thank you Allah for these past few days. I pray that he will seek guidance from You and spend the rest of his life worshipping You and I pray You forgive his sins and mine, and let us be dwellers in your gardens, Ya Rabb.

I'm all about da bass!

Weight is something I struggle with. It has always been since I turned 15 (yes, I'm a late bloomer) and it suddenly matters what size you are wearing. It matters what hairdo, what perfume and I became conscious of even my walk, talk and laugh (I opted for a Hyena screech as a trademark thinking it was oh-so-cool). Damn Puberty!

Many many years on (Add 20 something), I'm still at the weight issue. I've perfected my laugh to a more 'contained' one whilst in public (I still cannot deliver a lady-like one), I don't really care how I look like while walking because my handbag is probably a toddler's pram and I'm sure preying eyes are not interested. And the perfume is now very very very subtle. In fact, it has been reduced to no-fragrance type of deodorant only except when at home. (aligned with the sunnah for perfume for a woman lah)

So this year is the first time I'm actually doing something about it properrry ('properly' for those unfamiliar with singlish). A malaysian sister here who is also a qualified nutritionist wanted to share with some of us (the chosen ones, so proud) about what else, nutrition and taking care of our general wellbeing.  I've gained a lot (waaaaaait for it).... of information and knowledge through these sessions, mashaallah, and I'm not going to lie, keeping up is not an easy matter. Anyhoo, in the beginning of the sessions, we were told to visualise our new self - the one that we have always wanted to be (look like) and keep this vision in our minds till it becomes a reality. This was IS my vision. On Eva Mendes' body.

I printed this picture out and pasted it on my wardrobe, which unfortunately was next to the bathroom - where everyone (in the family) can see, and it was greeted with an "Eeeeeeep! What is that creepy picture mom????" Nice. Very encouraging brood.

I've shared some of these knowledge on my other public blog eatpraylove, meh....I mean www.eatupbehappy.blogspot.com and you are most welcome to read it while I struggle some more and share some healthy recipes up there.

Chammak Chalo! (Whatever that means)

Start your engine!

Since it's an official post-a-blog #blogreviveday , I'm gonna start the engine by telling you the story of how I started my engine. I mean car engine, around 6 years ago...

I suck at a lot of things, but as a mom I try to be a baker, a cook, a tutor/teacher, counsellor, lullaby songstress, potty trainer and the list goes on... and about 6 years ago even added on Driver to my Mom resume. Yes, I didn't learn to drive as soon as I turn 18 in Singapore because I was busy not passing the Basic Theory test. I think I finally passed it after the 5th trial and then just didn't pursue it seriously. I always tell myself, cars are expensive in Singapore so I wasn't in any hurry. (But later as a grown up I now would tell my children that every skill is important, we should grab any opportunity to learn something new and it could potentially generate income!)

Never had the chance to do it in Germany when I got married and moved there, especially after seeing the theory notebook was the size of your 80s Yellow Pages. I was not in need of a license in Saudi Arabia because a scholar said women who drives aren't fertile (sic). It was sort of a crash course offered at a driving school here in Dubai, taken over less than a month as recommended by non other than my blogger turned real life buddy that Makcik Melopong. It was nerve wrecking to say the least. I had to do it as having a driver was not an option and we lived out of the school bus service area. I tried to hire people who would do it part time but never had the nerve to leave my kids in the hands of a stranger, especially male ones. Even in Saudi Arabia when we had a live-in Driver, I would go with him to drop the kids to school. On the way back, I'd be sitting at the back seat of the car, getting random and flirty bluetooth messages from strangers trying to pick me up whilst they drive alongside our car. (tsk tsk, the weird stuffs Saudis do, but that's for another day).

And so I had very intensive classes with this Yemeni instructor who was really good and patient. Because I'm a lady, the tests are conducted by ladies as well and they are well, uhm, not so nice. Like when I'm driving they would check if I was looking at the rear view mirror, and I swear I was, but only until I stretched out my neck deliberately, did they believe me. After about 4 weeks of intensive driving sessions, I passed my test at the first take. Alhamdulillah.  My first baby was a 2nd hand greyish blue Peugeot 407.

I cried buckets before I started my car engine. I really did. Habibi was laughing away and even recording that moment. I was really scared. I feel that I am now responsible for my kids lives. I didn't take the job very lightly. Na 'ah.

Before I got my license, Habibi helped me study the road from our apartment to the kids school which is about 30minutes away. However, the day I officially had a license, he wasn't around to take the kids to school. Needless to say, my first day on the job was full of drama. Literally there were thunder and lightning and heavy rain involved. Dubai seldom receives rain so this was not quite the setting a first timer would expect on her first day. Shucks! Where and how do I turn on the wipers??? I don't recall Mr. Yemeni instructor guy ever telling me that! Rain or thunder or god forbid hurricane in my way, my kids weren't going to miss their school, I thought bravely and naively. I told my kids to sssshhh up because I needed to concentrate.

We arrived school on time, but I don't see many kids there. It was still pouring heavily as I walked into the school building only to be told that school is closed. I didn't know that schools can be closed when situations like these arises. Perhaps not anymore more now, but back then. I was very disappointed, upset, annoyed - furthermore we just moved to a new place and there was no internet so I obviously didn't get the memo. The next day, the same thing happened. Yeah. Twice in a row, I'm not kidding.

I didn't waste any time at all once I'm behind the wheels. Once I brought some friends out for shopping and during the conversation in the car, the story became intense and I was listening, very intently, so intent I didn't notice I was driving as slowly as the pace of the storyteller. The road was wide open, thank god I wasn't holding traffic.

Bad drivers? I saw plenty of those. Esp here where people come from different countries - most notorious for not having any driving ethics. You know how some vehicles have these stickers which tells you the number to call when the drivers are driving recklessly? Well, more than once I have had the tendencies to call upon their employers. But apparently according to this article, I shouldn't waste my time.

Have I had any accidents? Well, yeaaaaaahhhhh... I haven't (naudhubillah) hit anyone, but I did do injustice to a metal bar at a parking lot. And perhaps broke my side mirror while reversing one day out of my friend's garage. I also successfully submerged my husband's X5 in the soft (I didn't know they were so soft these desert sand!) sand while trying to do an illegal short cut. Very nice people I don't even know came and rescued our car with their even bigger cars just after making one phone call to Makcik Melopong who also came. I also spilled a whole big container of air bandung meant for a picnic with my Malaysian friends at the back of his car (again),  that left a foul smell after a few days and also killed his engine, and slowly his car (Innalillah wainna lillahrojeeun). Once I was hit, like really hit from the side, but alhamdulillah I was fine. The guy's car was more badly damaged though, I really felt sorry for him (after I confirmed that I was indeed driving on the correct lane and emerged the poor pregnant and shocked innocent victim.)

That's my story with driving.

There I've started my engine.

Phew!

Reconciliation

The past few weeks I've been a little bit depressed. Mainly feeling down as a friend of mine sought my help and listening ear about her marital problems. I couldn't help but feel down as well as I was being updated about their life. It was very emotionally draining. I am sympathetic towards what happened to her, but found myself hitting rock bottom as well in terms of psychological well-being. I don't know if that makes sense, but I went to back to a black hole in my past, where I could legitimately feel bad and sad. There is only one thing from my past that could make me feel like that. I missed my mom. The last time I saw her (after yeaarrsss) was more than 4 years ago, when I made a trip to my sister's home. My sister, after much persuasion, contacted Mak and we met, and had quite a memorable time together. It was followed by a quick day trip to Perak, where Mak then lives. I wrote about it here.

I was living in Saudi Arabia then, we communicated a bit on the phone (maybe 2 phone calls in all) and then lost in touch. I moved to Dubai and she changed numbers. My half-sister and me exchanged a short email and then it stopped. Mailbox full and stuff like that. Since I now visit Singapore only once a year, I made sure every 2nd year, I keep in touch with the Malaysian folks. So last year was it. I called my elder sis and found out that she was in labor. Without hesitation, I booked the earliest flight to K.L to visit her and the new addition. I spent 3 days/2night there despite having no place to stay and in the middle of Ramadhan. Kids just started fasting that year too, but they came along and complained little. We put up at a hotel in P.J. I could not get in touch with any friends except blogger friends turn kampung friends @Elisa Taufik and Sazlin@Blaberella. I could not get in touch with Mak, my sis did not have her contact number as well. She promised that she will get it for me though, and she did. She emailed me a number that belonged to my half sibling, but it was, again, a number not in use. It didn't help that around the same time, my daughter Salma was trying to draw up a family tree and she didn't know what names to fill in for my mom and dad. I don't blame her, It's complicated.

Less than a week ago my elder sis emailed me with the latest update on Mak. Through grapevine, she found out that Mak is now remarried with a pak imam from her kampung. I found that not surprising as Mak is still quite young. (I estimated that she is around 49 years old today). I was anxious to get in touch with Mak, and started to look up my half-siblings on - where else - Facebook. I don't even know their real fullnames to be honest, and I can hardly remember what my late stepdad's name was either. But the email addy that I had from 4 years ago was a good lead. It lead me straight to my half sister's FB a/c, although I wasn't really sure it was indeed her. I was right to suspect as she had put up her friend's pic on the profile in jest. Immediately my "friend request" was accepted and I found her on my wall with "kak Ruby!!!", I was elated. Through her, I found the other, and another "Kak Ruby...!" on my wall. Then the brother and then another sister. 4 out of 5. Alhamdulillah. All found within 2 days. I immediately asked for my mom's number and braced myself to call her. The eldest one amongst them was not there, but I understand that he is not IT savvy.

I called her the very next day. It was nerve-wrecking. I always fear of being rejected. What if she don't welcome my phone call, or not at all interested in my updates or my trials to connect? She answered and sounded happy to hear from me. She asked about my kids. I asked her if she had gotten married, she retorted, "siapalah nak ngan maak..". It was a short phone call when she ended the conversation with "Mak kat luar ni, nanti petang call lagi...". I put down the phone, and admit that I was a little sad. I tried calling her the next day... and the next... "nombor yang anda dial di luar kawasan perkhidmatan......" Did she cut off her line? Maybe she is avoiding me?". Needless to say, I was feeling depressed, and then the song from the currently much talked about movie "Ombak Rindu" seems to fit my situation....

"Tuhan, tolong lembutkan hati dia
Untuk terimaku seadanya
Kerna ku tak mampu
Kerna ku tak sanggup
Hidup tanpa dia di sisiku"

Corny kan? What to do. It does feel like that.

I was on facebook almost all the time after that, looking at my siblings pictures, seeing how much they've grown since I last saw them, more than 10 years ago. They all look different now. I wanted to know about them, what they are doing now, if they are attached/married. I wrote a message to them, being emo as usual...it was quite long.

"Salam adik2 ku yang ku sayangi dan ingati selalu,
no words can express how happy i am to be reconnected with you all. seeing all your pictures, your life ; gives me a chance to catch up with the times we had lost. i think im lucky to have had the chance to get to know all of you back when I was in Malaysia. You were all so nice and adorable back then and I can't help but fall in love with each one of you. Timing and situation was bad then for me, hence we parted ways, but i always remember the kindness of your dad, Allahyarhamuh. So happy to catch up with mak few years back, and met Nadia, Iman and Joey Alhamdulillah. I intend to go back this march for a short trip with the kiddos, so InshaAllah I'll plan something for us. Hopefully we can meet up and catch up. I tried calling mak on the number nadia gave, got her once, dapat cakap sekejap saje as she was outside she said, but now bila cuba lagi tak dapat plak. i'll try again anyhow. if you all have whatssapp, add me on ok. my number here in Dubai is +XXX XXXXXXX. I most welcome you to Dubai should you plan to travel to the Middle East anytime.

Salam from me,
your sister"

Again, their reply was short and curt. They talked about them coming to Dubai and very light stuff. Maybe I'm hoping someone would tell me what happened, explain the stuffs I didn't understand about my life, fill in the blanks, solve the mysteries. None of that happened. We added each other on Whatsapp and chatted on our devices today. It was nice, very casual but intimate. I also told them that I could not get hold of Mak, and they explained that Mak was holidaying somewhere in Cameron Highlands where the reception was bad... *Phewww...Alhamdulillah* I felt relieved. I definitely will try to call her again soon. InshaAllah.

I now know where everybody is. I feel complete and at peace, to say the least. With FB, I hope to be in touch with my siblings for years to come. And hopefully soon, we will all meet in the flesh.

My family tree currently looks like this...

(stepdad) ______________ (stepmom)
Pakcik Man ------ Mak | Abah -----------Makcik Siti
_______::::::::::: ___________::::::::_____________

Joey ::::::::::::::::::::: Nor Rita :::::::::::Muhaimi
Nissa::::::::::::::::::: ME:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::
Nadia
Nabila
Aiman

My Mak and Abah had me and my elder Sis Nor Rita. They divorced after I was born and mom left and remarried to Pakcik Man and they had 5 kids - who are my half-siblings of the same mom. Abah married long after to a divorcee with 4 kids, and had 1 son from her, my younger bro, Muhaimi. So total siblings 8, if include stepmom's kids, 12. Big family huh? Ironic cos we don't really know each other. I am, however, very fortunate to be the only one who have lived with both parents and therefore got to know my siblings closely. Alhamdulillah. I am also the only one from my mom whose name did not start with "N" like the rest of my girl siblings. I wonder what would that be if my mom had the chance to name me instead. (I was named by my late paternal grandpa). Her name, of course, starts with "N".

This chapter is closed. At least, I hope so.



Pic taken almost 4 years ago in 2008.
Mak and my son

p/s : The very first time I met her was when I had an accident and fractured my leg in the late 80s. She visited me with her late husband (after a phonecall from my guardians about the accident). I sat at a corner and tried to sketch her face on a drawing pad. I was desperate to retain her image in my mind.

Alhamdulillah for cameras and technology!

My best friend is now married...

H, my BFF forever. I am blessed with my close friends, but if I were to pick one as the closest, it's not hard at all. H knows me in and out, has been with me since we were 12. I wrote about her awhile back. Her struggles are different than mine, yet we sought for the same thing - our happy ever after. Yes we believe in fairy tales, not in the fiction kinda-way, but coming from a broken family, we have longed for love since we knew how it feels like or rather, how the lack of it feels like. It's painful. Tormenting. Empty.

Of course I am emotional, I am happy and I can't contain it anymore. I am happy for my dearest friend of all. A long journey indeed, from a broken family, losing her mother to cancer, moving to Qatar alone and struggling to find :life: to living. Allah is the best of all planners indeed. How I came to the picture living in the same continent as her, is nothing short of His wisdom in His great scheme of things. It's not a coincidence, nope. I don't believe that. I am here because we are meant to be sisters to each other - same bubbly personality, same chubbiness, same loud-speaker mouth, same speak-your-mind attitude, same taste in food, same principles - even twins will not have such similarities! And guess what, now we even have same type of mixed marriage - to an afro arab man. SubhanAllah. Isn't that just amazing?

I recall us celebrating our 33rd birthday together last year and you wished for a husband. Subhanallah. Wish Granted indeed!

I wrote you a letter when you were flying to get your dad from Singapore, made me cry. You said you cried too. :_(

May Allah continue to bless you my dearest sister...
He already did,

>>>>>>>>>>>>>

Dearest H, Assalamualaikum
As you are making your journey back home tonight, I am suddenly hit with the realisation that I might 'lose' you in your process of finding your own happiness. Though this may come out selfish, I have to tell you what an amazing friendship we're having and I will definitely be missing the late nights chats that we have when you come over here. Or those times we scoured for the best food about town, or just cooking up our favourite dishes. From teenage crushes to make up brushes, there are always things we can talk about and share and running out of topic has never been our problem. Im not sure what your marriage life will be like and guess you probably won't be coming here alone anymore (will you?), but I know sincerely from my heart that we'll always be sisters no matter where we are. I will always have a spot in my heart for the chubby girl who came up to me and said Hi first in school. We've been inseparable since, and that was 21 years ago. Now I want to kick myself for not asking how it was for you when I got married. I left you then, did you feel as I feel now? Now I'm feeling a little emptiness and fear of losing you :( I cannot imagine life without you in it. So my only wish is that our friendship will stay as it's always been or even better, as we will be sharing even more things in common. Subhanallah, how fate arranges it, we're together in the middle east and got married to afro-arab man! Allah heard our silent prayers, and He has given us more than we ever ask for. ALHAMDULILLAH. I pray that we remain sisters duniyya wal akhirah and I sincerely pray for your happiness in your marriage to E. May Allah give you both barakah and rezk and bless you with pious children. Ameen

I look forward to welcome you and your husband to our abode. Finally, our family is now complete.

Allahu Akhbar!

Ruby
your friend, your sister

Beautiful Swan

(I've been recording my daughter's progress since she was born in her own blog. The journals are less regular now as we get busier these days, however, today I just wrote in it again..)

My dear Salma,

As you grow up, it's getting harder for me to write as you. You have your own voice now, your own personality that I feel its unfair if this journal is written from your perspectives. Let me now record your life from my observations of you. I pray that you will enjoy reading these bits about you soon InshaAllah.

Earlier today the door bell rang. I wasn't expecting any guests so I really don't know who was at the door. You heard it, ran into your room, grabbed the piece of hejab, covered your head to see who was at the door. By this time, the person - who was just a lady selling dvds - has left but I was so pleasantly surprised that you are now so natural with the hejab. In fact from the very first day, even though you were unsure about it, you never once took it off in the classroom. I am really proud of you Salma. You became surer and more confident as we talked you through it, explaning to you the rewards behind the piece of cloth. Some kids in school tries to annoy you and pull off your hejab as a joke, but you always put in back on. You become the joke of the class for being different, but you strive on ahead. Noticing that you've been singled out by your classmates, I decided to come in and talk to them with your teacher's permission. I told them to respect your hejab and reminded them that their moms also put on hejab. It is not nice to pull out someone's hejab to embarrass them. It is Allah who told us to do so, so we are doing it just to please Him... I admit I almost choked with tears because I am standing there defending you my child. But it was well worth it. Your teacher helped you by punishing those who defied and now you wear hejab like your second skin, MashaAllah. I'm so proud of you. May Allah protect your deen and guide you to His path.

It still puzzles me, or rather amaze me how, from a clingy crying difficult baby - you've become such a thoughtful, caring, emotional little person. Sometimes when you feel a little left out, I come and talked to you. You remained silent, but I know you heard me, because tears trickled down your cheeks. It's not easy, this role as a mother. I am still making mistakes, all I ask is that you will keep forgiving me for them.

Love is a word we use liberally in this household. We say it everyday to each other and we even give it value. Currently it's 100,000 million times. Alhamdulillah.

Khalid fell asleep on the day bed in the living room just now. You went into the bedroom, took his favorite nighttime companion and placed it in his arms. Just yesterday as you were walking to the gate, you bade goodbye to us and didn't forget to say to Khalid "I love you" and "I'll miss you". Every time I see the both of you getting on so well together, I feel a tinge of pride and happiness - I know that even though we keep moving places and continue to be strangers to our neighbors, you continue to be best friends to each other. Sure you have your tiffs, but I suspect that those tiffs are normal between siblings and forgettable.

Your grades in school are very good. Your arabic has improved a lot and you recently got a present that you wanted for your birthday. We decided to give it to you for your good performance in school instead. Nek Ros used to reward me when I did well in school, and I often look forward to her treats - although sometimes I don't even deserve it...but her interests in my education keeps me motivated. I hope it will do the same to you too. Although by far, you've already outdone me in many ways my sweetheart.

I look forward to watch you grow and be part of your progress in life. Currently, you want to be a vet.

I love you 100,000 million times over and more Salma.

Rabbana Maaki fi duniyya wal akhirah. Ameen.