My dad passed away the night of 27th of Ramadhan. I had cried significantly less than I thought I would.
It was a usual Monday. Bustling with people checking that all the drawings are up for the upcoming fix meeting. A fix meeting is a meeting where we get the management’s approval to fix certain specification. And so I had returned home later than usual and we had takeaways for iftar. At 9 something I sent Winter to sleep only to fall asleep myself. I briefly woken around 10.50, and went back to sleep. At past 12, my husband woke me up, telling me my brother had called. “Bapak takdak,” was what he told me. Groggily, I had imagined my dad’s empty bed and thought ‘Where had dad run away?’ Foolish. But that was how much I wasn’t expecting what was coming.
It took me minutes to let the information sink in. Some more minutes for my brain to send the ‘sad’ signal to my entire body. I must be very very stupid. But it wasn’t until I arrived next to dad’s cold body that the gate fully opened flooding tears. And still, they are a lot less than I had expected they would be.
For one. Dad went away the night in Ramadhan. For two. It was said he went away in his sleep. Which gives me high hopes that he went in a good state. And that in a way makes me relief, for there is no better death than dying in a good state. I had smiled, hugged people, telling them it’s OK, insya Allah.
My dad was a person he taught me the value of hard work. He must have worked harder than any of us, day and night, rain and shine, and yet never I had heard him complained of how tiring his job was. He had emphasized on the importance of education, sending his children to pursue tertiary study even when he had to bear the cost himself. He had made sure I didn’t ended up wasting my talents.
Through the years, I never heard him resent anybody. People had done him bad and yet I did not know him being enemy with anyone. Dad is good with strangers. He said hello and chat with people regardless, offering them smiles all the time. He had always liked to be the one paying for the meals, even when his children are capable of taking the bills.
My dad lived a long life. Through hardships and difficulties. He gave to people, expecting nothing in return; the one quality I hope live in me too.
Please make doa to Allah for my dad. May he be granted a house in Jannah by the beautiful beach with emerald green water. I think he would really like it.