Life Is Not Just A Rollercoaster...

It's what KIND of rollercoaster life is. It's only the start of April but it's as if more than just 4 months have gone by with so many things happening all at once. I'm still trying to sloooooowly place everything in order but like that Corkscrew rollercoaster at Genting Theme Park, the loops just keep coming.

I haven't been blooging because the apparent rollercoaster hasn't eneded it's course yet. It's still running & hopefully, it will come to an end in a few weeks time.

A few days after my kenduri, my uncle passed away after three years of battling colon/stomach cancer. He died in the hospital. He was 43, a few years younger than my Dad. He left behind 3 girls aged 20, 19 & 18. His own mother, passed away almost a week before him battling the same disease but of a different kind.

The funeral was held on the day I was supposed to have my first bridging unit lesson. It had been a long time since I attended a funeral, especially one whom was close.

As we sat solemnly in the dining area, the men got to work moving back & forth to prepare the ritual of bathing the corpse. One of those men involved, was Dad. It then occurred to me that, oh my God, what if this happened to my family. I mean, anything is possible. I looked around & it struck me how lost my cousins looked.

They weren't even wearing proper baju kurungs because they had none. The eldest wore a sweater with a long skirt. The middle wore my grandmother's baju kurung & the third, wore a navy blazer with jeans. All were without a proper tudung.

In my mind's eye, is this how you want to send your father off?? They had little religious background, much less practice it.

I watched my father busily helping & it suddenly opened my eyes that I really need to learn this. The techniques of how to handle a corpse right from cleansing it down to returning it back to the hands of God, into the Earth.

It is encouraged that family members handle whatever that needs to be done & I'm thinking that if Mom dies one day, I would want to be the one to do it. I would want to be the one cleansing her & wrapping her together with my sisters. I am afterall, her firstborn. And if family members are not there to do it or have the capability to do it, then who will?? Other people?? The public??

Sad. Tak malu ke??

My uncle was being wrapped in cotton linen after the cleansing ritual. When his face was being revealed, everyone burst into tears, me included. Again, in my mind's eye, what if that were Dad?? Or Mom?? Will I be mentally strong enough to handle it??

The practice of showering the deceased with jasmine & fangipani began & my aunt knelt down to do it first. The rule was that none of a person's tears was allowed to touch the deceased's face or he will be tainted & will have to be cleansed again. My cousin almost couldn't do it. She was his firstborn.

The thought alone sent a stream down my face. Family has always been an important word to me. If you don't have them, then you don't have anyone.

My cousin struggled to sprinkle the scented flowers over his head & struggled even more as she bent down to kiss his forehead. She made it through. And I thought, will I have that strength in me as I proceed to do the same rituals she did when the time comes?? Will God GRANT me that strength??

As the firstborn, there is always that responsibility he has to take & to carry out. It is his duty & if you will, his destiny. Would I be ready when the time comes to step up one fine day when my parents are gone??

Then came the moment where you had to pray at the corpse; praying FOR it, would be a better description. And again, family members should be the ones doing it. Meaning, his three girls & his wife. I don't know if they knew how to do it or not, but one by one, each followed their mother into her bedroom for a final weeping session.

Now, I'm not saying crying is wrong. But it is believed that, the more you cry, it is like the more you're not giving in to God's wishes for him to take what is rightfully his. Redha, is the arabic term. Mom asked if I would like to join in for the session of prayers for the deceased since she couldn't do it.

I looked around, saw that there were three rows of men VERSUS, three women. And I nodded my head & took my place. Now, I'm not an expert on praying for the deceased. But, wouldn't it be better to just follow then not do anything at all?? None of my other aunts did it.

In the corner of my heart, I felt a certain deep despair.

Again, I really felt the need to take up a course on corpse management. If not for my family members, for myself.

Uncle Sam. He was a good uncle. An even greater Manchester United fan. I can't count the number of times we watched matches together. Losing his mother at the same time he lost his battle to cancer is as tragical as they come. May he rest in peace. Al-Fateha.

Latez...
Lenny