Let me tell you a story...

Once upon a time, like any other story ever told, there was a girl. She got married at such a young age. Her husband was a loving man. Kind, patient, soft spoken and with all the love for her shining from his eyes. He sail the seas and travels the world, welcoming adventures and experiences one only hears in stories. To his family, it was his story. 

But this particular story is not about him. It is about that girl.

When he sailed the seas, she stayed on land. When they moved to a new land, she left everything that was familiar to her and set up a place she called home. She started a family and raised her children while her husband left for the seas to support the family. What an extraordinary courage.

I took the supermarket flowers from the windowsill
I threw the day-old tea from the cup
Packed up the photo album Matthew had made
Memories of a life that's been loved

Who would have thought that such courage were to be passed down from Mother to Daughter and all the daugthers after them. As the generations passed, this courage grew ever so dominant. It was because of this girl who left everything and with nothing but the love given to her and the love she gave to those around her made everything.

One day, she lost the man she loved the most. Not too long after, she lost the son she hold most dear. She fell in despair. Her daughters held her together. She was not the most affectionate woman. The ways of the Matriarch, I once called it. She was firm, stern, relentless and utterly protective of her family in her own little ways.

Took the "Get Well Soon" cards and stuffed animals
 Poured the old ginger beer down the sink
 Dad always told me, "Don't you cry when you're down."
 But, mum, there's a tear every time that I blink

Life flew by as her daughters got married and had children of their own. Granddaughters and a grandson filled her life. One of them lived with her. Oh the life they had. The adventures and memories they've created.


like every memory, it has both good and bad. she was no exception to that. She witnessed the failed marriage of her daughter and the sadness she felt was non-comparable to any. That also strained her relationship with her granddaughter.

"Oh, I'm in pieces. It's tearing me up but I know
A heart that's broke is a heart that's been loved"

As everyone led their own lives, so did her grand daughter. As she went through her educational journey and one day left the family home. Venturing into the world, discovering what life has to offer. 

8 long years she lived on her on. 8 years was neither long nor short. But it was enough to age an old soul. She grew frail. And on the 8th year, she called her grand daughter home. To stay by her side with the family. Her grand daughter, returned.

"So, I'll sing Hallelujah,
You were an angel in the shape of my mum
When I fell down you'd be there holding me up
Spread your wings as you go
And when God takes you back
He'll say, "Hallelujah, you're home.""

8-9months she stayed by her side and her grand daughter witness her age each day. As she told the stories of a life she once had, she laughed without any worry in the world. As she told of the love she once had, she smiled wistfully with a sense of longing in her eyes. She argued as fiestily as she once had when her hair was the shade of the night turning to dawn. Her grand daughter entertained, argued, laughed, cried, and loved along with her. That grand daughter... was me. The same grand daughter that left 8years ago. the same grand daughter whose relationship with her little old grand mother was sort of broken.

"I fluffed the pillows, made the beds, stacked the chairs up
Folded your nightgowns neatly in a case
John said he'd drive, then put his hand on my cheek
And wiped a tear from the side of my face"

It was Ramadhan in the year of 2018. Ramadhan, the holiest month of the muslim calendar. We all did our fast and so did she despite how frail she was getting. She talked about how she can't wait for the morning of Eid. Everyday she talked about Eid, looking forward to meet my cousins and the rest of the family.

Somehow, i knew, deep within, it was gonna be the last Eid that she'd be with us.

"And I hope that I see the world as you did 'cause I know
A life with love is a life that's been lived"

Eid came. She ate with vigor, with the laughter that she always had and the smile as she welcomed the family into her room. 2 weeks passed. she refused to eat and refused to drink anything. She deteriorated further before my eyes. Then one night, mom called me into the room and announced that she thinks my grandmother is having fever. I called the doctor to come over and after a diagnosis, i called the ambulance. Everything after that was sort of a blur.

"So, I'll sing Hallelujah,
You were an angel in the shape of my mum
When I fell down you'd be there holding me up
Spread your wings as you go, when God takes you back
He'll say, "Hallelujah, you're home.""

3 days passed. on the third day, it was a cloudy day. the sky drizzled its rain unto the earth as if knowing what was to come. I spoke to the doctor as I was listed as the emergency contact. She wasn't going to survive that day she said. I nodded and took a seat at the hospital's waiting area to compose myself. My grandmother that i've known to be this strong woman was dying today. I knew this day was coming, but i facing it was another thing altogether. 

Friday, 29th June 2018. My grandmother left us to return to her creator. And with a heavy heart, we held on to our faith and bid her farewell with prayers to guide her to hereafter on that holy Friday. 

She was at peace when she left. With a tiny smile carved on her face as she closed her eyes for the final time that morning and i hear the constant beep that indicated she left us. I held on to the phone while i was on the line with my other relatives and I leaned against a wall. Took a deep breath as a tear trickled down by face, composed myself and took to the phones to inform all those who matter that my grandmother has left us.

As i signed every document in a haze, as I witness my mother and her sisters cry, as i made the funeral arrangements and with every heart breaking phone call that i had to make... I sat in a corner taking a deep breath after each one. never allowing myself to cry while other people need me.

"Hallelujah,
You were an angel in the shape of my mum
You got to see the person I have become
Spread your wings and I know
That when God took you back, he said, "Hallelujah, you're home.""

Its been more that a 100 days since she left us now. But I have not set foot in her room since. I did not even realise that the night the doctor came was the last time I was ever in that room until the other day when i was thinking about it.

 But yeah. 

Jamilah Bt Kabil
1936 - 2018

My grandmother. What a life she must have had.