To Allah belongs what He takes and to Him belongs what He gives. There is a set time by Him for everything.
I thought I was calm.
I thought I was strong.
I even thought that I have a cold heart when I seemed to be unaffected over the news that my grandma was admitted to the hospital.
I guess I was in denial.
Just like I was, when my grandfather passed away 17 years ago.
But I can't even say my goodbye properly. My last kiss on my grandma's cold cheek was accompanied by a big lump in my throat and tears that threatened to fall but I held it off. I wished to linger but I didn't. I didn't trust myself to stay strong.
Just moments after we drove off from the graveyard, the waterworks were turned on. I sobbed uncontrollably all through the journey back home as I was remembering my childhood memories with her and of my late grandfather. Remembering how I missed her cooking. The way she used to nag at us. How grandpa used to ask her cook chicken heart day-in, day-out for me when I experienced a number of fainting spells when I was in college.
I told Raimie earlier that I now have no grandparents left.
All her living children came. So did her grandchildren and great grandchildren. Some of us made it in time, some of us didn't. But we all made effort to be there when she was lowered down to earth. She was loved.
She had a full life, all 93 years of it (88 officially though).
My beloved Opah, may she rest in peace and be amongst the good and pious.