Lama saya dakap dia erat-erat dalam pelukan saya.
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To tell her that I know exactly how she feels is just a plain lie. I was not raised by an aunt. What do I know about being raised by an aunt and not my own mother. But then again… a mother is a mother – whoever she is – an aunt, a sister, a stranger.
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Losing a woman who fed our hungry mouth when we were too young to feed ourselves, who sang us to sleep and told silly stories just so we got tired and fell asleep, who wiped our tears, our bottom, our head, our toes and everything else in between… would be the greatest loss ever known to women.
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Though I felt for her and I cried with her, I didn’t say I knew how she was feeling. I was lucky to have the last ten days of my mother’s life. She wasn’t. So I just held her in my arms for the longest time. All I could say was, “Dah sampai waktu nya Bik. Tuhan Maha Penyayang.”
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Al-Fatihah and prayers for the aunt of Bibik Caskinih who returned to The Maker on the evening of February 19, 2013. Semoga tenang bersama orang-orang yang Tuhan kasih.
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Questa è Enida 