She raised me as though I were her child, she’d
raise me like no other and on Fridays she’d cook my favourite food, because she
knew I’ll be coming to visit, after all the food she made all I said was thank
you, I didn’t hug her, or kiss her, I just said thank you!
And know she’s gone, and O how much I’d love to
relive those days when she was just steps away, O how I miss the way she hugged
me, and the way she played with my hair, when she told me stories, numerous
stories that had morals, she taught me to never lie, and always be happy, she
was my role model
I remember her house perfectly, I remember the way
she used to cook, and how she had a Quran on the table, she would be memorising
the verses and cooking at the same time, those verses were like her special
ingredient to the food.
I remember the last few months she was in hospital
I’d wake up early in the morning and me and my mum would drive there, I still
remember the smell of the hospital, I remember that big room with its white
walls, there were about 12 patients including her in the room, 6 of them were
lined after the other and the other 6 were opposite them, she was on the 3rd
bed to the right.
I could see her smiling as she saw me walk in. I
would run straight to her give her a big hug and sit beside her, holding her
soft hands, as she spoke about her day and what the doctors had told her.
Looking straight at her my eyes were full of tears, I didn’t want to cry in
front of her because if she saw me she would know the reason why.
Time would fly by as we spent the day together, and
when night came I would kiss her goodbye, and she would kiss my forehead and
say: "come back tomorrow”, I skipped beside my mum as we walked back
to the car, day by day I’d see nurses spreading new sheets on beds and new
pillows, as previous patients passed away.
It was the end of my holiday, I said my last
goodbyes, I kissed her and hugged her so much, because I didn’t know if I’d be
seeing her again, I would cry and cry, I was scared, I was worried if this was
my last goodbye.
As I walk out of the doors I’d look back at her and
she would be smiling at me with tears in her eyes, we both knew that that
moment could be the last
And now here I am 2012, three years after her
death, with lots of regret, regret that I couldn’t visit her because I had
school
Regret that I didn’t call her a lot; regret
that I couldn't tell her my final goodbye on the phone.
It’s hard for me to be writing this post now, with
tears in my eyes, and regret that is killing me.
But now all I can do is smile, smile to the friends
and families I have left. With this regret I show more love to my family and
friends, with this regret I appreciate their existance in my life, with this
regret I know how blessed I am for everything else I have.
- I love you Ata and I miss you RIP 1948-2009
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