In order to pursue my craving for knowledge, I left home about four years ago to be in Japan. However, two days before the journey took place, two of my beloved kinsmen, grandfather and step grandfather, left this world. The brunt of their departure made me distraught; nevertheless, my kin resented any idea of me retreated. Thus, my period of bereavement started with me adjusting my life in the new land.
Demise of the elder relatives is one of the news that I detested so much because it broke my heart, but it never stops coming.
Next thing I know, there were news of my grandmother, her sister in-law who live next door, her cousins, her friends, also of the paternal side and people who live in the same village; they went to meet their maker one after another.
Yesterday, a grandmother who was my mother's aunt and lived next door, she too passed away and that was only a few months before I go home.
I was there for them once in a blue moon when they were alive, but now I can't even be at their funeral. The thought did hurt so much.
Why do I care so much?
I am a traditional Malay village girl. Since I was 13 years old, either studying or working, I was always away. Yet, whenever there was opportunity arises, I would return home. And these were the people who would call upon me at home. They kissed me by the cheek likes I was a little girl they used to know. They pampered me with sweet and food made or bought. Although the word love was never been uttered, I felt that love was in the air.
I just wish that they know that they're loved and missed.
Demise of the elder relatives is one of the news that I detested so much because it broke my heart, but it never stops coming.
Next thing I know, there were news of my grandmother, her sister in-law who live next door, her cousins, her friends, also of the paternal side and people who live in the same village; they went to meet their maker one after another.
Yesterday, a grandmother who was my mother's aunt and lived next door, she too passed away and that was only a few months before I go home.
I was there for them once in a blue moon when they were alive, but now I can't even be at their funeral. The thought did hurt so much.
Why do I care so much?
I am a traditional Malay village girl. Since I was 13 years old, either studying or working, I was always away. Yet, whenever there was opportunity arises, I would return home. And these were the people who would call upon me at home. They kissed me by the cheek likes I was a little girl they used to know. They pampered me with sweet and food made or bought. Although the word love was never been uttered, I felt that love was in the air.
I just wish that they know that they're loved and missed.
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