a different kind of life

Sitting here in the kitchen after preparing dinner. Thaqif having his dinner and Ruiz contemplating on whether to shower first or eat and has picked shower. Adam is on the way home. He called while walking to his car, just left the clinic he said. I am talking to Thaqif as i typed this. I made a vietnamese dish of chicken and boiled eggs, and cooked some chinese spinach. The boys thankfully enjoy the dish. I am glad for the company. I was kind of down ever since i did my asar prayer, i was missing bak and mak, home, and all the people and things associated to that. I cry most times when i do my zuhur and asar, always feeling the weight in my chest, and crying in the middle of my solat. Surprisingly, it is different with maghrib and isya', i suppose over the need to be done and get back to what i was doing or to adam most of all who would wait patiently to have a conversation over our day, mostly his of course as mine is nothing interesting or extra ordinary. His would be filled of tales of patients, the staff at the clinic, at times even about what he has seen on his way to work. This reminds me of how Thaqif asked me today about when will i get my new phone and i said that it is ok, that i would get it later as it is not that important, it is not like i have any friends who would call and besides i have the ipad which is sufficient for the time being. After saying that i realised how pathetic i sounded, and how sad. No friend to call me. And that is a fact... How different life is now for me. 

Turning the house into a home

The house is looking more like a home now. Finally managed to go get a rug for the living room and some throw cushions to add to the cosy feeling i want in a home. Adam was off yesterday and we were out getting stuff for almost the whole day. Tired plus a hole in our pockets but the things we bought are all for the long term. I have my sofa and book shelf delivered later today. They will not complete the whole "cosy" living room look and feel i would like to have but it is wonderful for a start. And i am thankful to Allah for all that i have, few or a lot depends on whether you would prefer to look at it as half full or half empty. Boys are having their mac and cheese lunch now and i need to go organise mine and adam's clothes as he just fixed up the much needed drawers in our bare closet. These things plus thinking about what to cook everyday are what keep me busy and distracted for now. Speaking of what to cook, chicken is out and defrosting and i am so cooking chicken with pepper in hoisin sauce for tonight's dinner. Until later...

please hold my hand

dearest Allah

can you please hold my hand?

Numb

Been months since i last wrote. The last time was on the eve of my marriage solemnisation to adam. Was in NY then, Brooklyn to be precise. I went home to KL not too long after that. Had earlier planned on moving to NY for good to join adam at the end of the year but plans changed and here i am, three months later back in NY, in Long Island in a new home with the two younger boys in tow starting a new life, leaving those i love dearly back home in KL. Funny in a not funny sortbof way what you once thought you wanted so much turned out to be the biggest pain in your life. Has it not been this that i wanted? To be with adam? No matter where, i thought, as long we can be together. Had i bargained for too much than i can take? Did i not see that the pain it could bring me? Leaving everything and especially everyone including my dearest thoriq and beloved bak and mak to be with a man who yes despite being my husband and who loves me, somehow could never make up for the emptiness left in me when i left KL this time for a longer term. Every time i am alone, in the quiet of the morning, with adam and boys still asleep after my fajar prayer, i remember saying goodbye to bak, he lying in bed, i had woken him from his nap to say goodbye. I had kissed him over and over on his forehead, his cheeks and i kept telling him how much i love him like i could never tell him enough, like if i dont keep saying it, he will not remember it, that he wont remember me. What if i never see him again? What if i come back and he is no longer there? What if that was me touching him and hugging him for the last time? Would i ever be able to live with it? It was ironic, i was hugging him as though i was the parent and bak was so fragile and he kept telling me it is ok and to take care. I wonder if he even remembered it after that now that he forgets things so easily these days, i am your little girl bak. I am your little girl. How could i leave you? And mak, i kissed her the way i did bak. Asked for her forgiveness and repeatedly told her i love her. She was unexpectedly strong. Tears in her eyes but she did not break dowor anything which helped me composed myself. I held her hand and turned to go but came back and gave her one last hug and kissed her again on both cheeks, telling her she has to come and see me. Who am i kidding? Who am i kidding really? Adam said it would take a while and one day the pain will recede and the homesickness wont be so bad. Right now i dont believe him. It is not his fault. He is trying to help. It is just that i dont believe him and neither do i believe my head that keeps telling me that in time it will be less painful. Maybe it willbe easier to get through the days, prolonged pain can sometimes numb you. Maybe thats is how it will be. Numb...