I thought this day would never come.

It felt so weird going back to that house for her 40th day tahlil.

Everything seems so awkwardly absent. I wasn't there when she breathed her last, so the reality of her passing was really, very fresh to me.

Her fresh, flashing smile is also amiss. It felt weird seeing the absence of her bed beside the window, now replaced by bulky floral sofas and carpets.

It felt weird that now her room wasn't stacked with boxes of fluid for her peritoneal dialysis.

It felt weird that she is not there. Ahh the memories, cruelly pouring in as i decipher slowly the meaning of the then present sights that is now, absent.

Somehow, the house feels less homey, less opah without her. She is always there, and now she is gone, it's weird like that.

I saw broken family ties, mended nicely. It's amazing how death, brings the living closer. People start to think, and they start to appreciate.

I saw my dad's soft side yesterday as he talks about his beloved mother. I saw the look on my opah Ah's face as she recited the sacred lines of yassin. Being the only sibling to my opah, i could tell how lonely she felt after losing her one and only childhood confidante. Which made me realize how lucky i am, how blessed i am, for having a lot of sisters. Those who can pray for me and who can ask my children to pray for me.

Life goes on.

Love forever.

mata kita sepet sama-sama pah.