When I recall back on my childhood, it always brings a bittersweet feeling. There are certain moments that I hold close to my heart. The moments that feel like little treasures in my mind. And sometimes, these memories come rushing back to me unexpectedly.
Memories with Abah
Some of my most cherished memories are with my late father, Abah. Little moments, like when we went shopping together, mean so much to me.
Unlike Mom, who was practical, Abah loved to spoil me with toys. Every time he mentioned a shopping trip, my little mind would already imagine a new toy in my hands. Also, Abah never needed to raise his voice, and he never put a hand on me.
Growing up, I realized how precious that kind of love is, the love that makes a child feel safe enough to grow.
Abah’s love for writing
One of the things that stays with me the most is his love for writing. When I was in primary school, I found out his diaries, and I loved reading them. He documented his days, and within those pages, I found small glimpses of my own childhood.
As the years went by, he wrote less, but his early diaries remained. I still wish I could read them again. But sadly, many of them have been lost to time.
His first video camera
Alongside his love for writing, Abah had a passion for photography. He bought a video camera when I was in primary school, and I still remember how happy I felt when he showed up at the school sports day with his camera and took a video of me.
Back then, video cameras used tapes. Sometimes, he would take me along to weddings, where he would record videos for our relatives. He was so good at it that people started asking him to film their weddings, too.
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| Photo on Unsplash |
Seeing him in myself
When I reflect on Abah, I see so much of him in myself. His love for writing and his love for capturing moments through pictures and videos. I felt that parts of him lived on in me.
Losing Abah
Three years ago, Abah passed away. Losing him felt like losing a part of myself, a piece that I could never get back. As the eldest daughter, I knew I had to be strong, not just for myself, but for my mother and younger sister, and for everyone who looked to me for support.
But behind closed doors, the tears would come.
The tears came late at night when no one could see. Only the silence and Allah SWT knew how broken I felt.
I never posted about it online. I chose to keep my grief private. I was careful about what I shared online, especially the parts of me that felt vulnerable. Sharing my grief with the world wouldn’t bring Abah back or lessen the pain I felt inside. Nothing could fill the emptiness that came with losing someone I loved.
Living with loss
But through the loss, I learned the most valuable life lesson which is acceptance.
Acceptance or redha is not as easy as it sounds.
Yes, we can always say the word "redha", but deep down, it took us time to truly understand what that meant. Losing a loved one can be one of the deepest and most difficult experiences of grief.
It really hit me hard to realize that nothing in this life truly belongs to us.
All the moments we cherish, the people we love, and even the things we possess are temporary. These are all gifts from Allah SWT, and when He decides to take them back, we have to let go.
Abah was one of those precious gifts, and even though he was taken from me too soon, I am grateful for every moment we shared.
The meaning of loss
Now, I finally understand the ache of missing someone who is no longer with us. It’s not just the absence. But also a space that lingers, a place where their laughter and presence used to live.
And sometimes, I wonder if I will ever find someone who loves me the way Abah did.
Or maybe that love was only meant for me once in this lifetime?
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