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Hebitch
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Bitched on: Thursday, December 14, 2006
Time: 12/14/2006 12:47:00 AM
In a strange way, I feel comforted to know that she passed away shortly after she fell ill. It means Mother (that's how I address...ed my Grandma...) didn't have to endure anymore suffering. And I know she is now in a better place.
A place free from the pain.
sigh...
...
It was a nice funeral last Monday (Muslims believe in burying the deceased as soon as possible; so no wakes whatsoever).
Sure, there was all the mourning and crying (especially me, I think I cried more than all my male cousins put together... surprise surprise...) whilst during the takziah (funeral) at Mother's place (which now, as my sister had reminded me, shouldn't be called 'her place' anymore), but there were also prayers of forgiveness and recitations of the holy Qur'an (the ayat Yassin); which made the day very spiritually... special, you know?
I have never felt more closer to God.
But it was really heart-wrenching to see my dad and my uncles cry after the kapan (shrouding of the body with white cloths after the tukang cuci mayat has cleansed the body). That's when we were allowed to give her a farewell kiss (tears are not allowed to fall on the deceased face, which is the only part exposed; so we really had to fight back the tears). I felt like hugging my Dad when he broke down but I found myself equally inconsolable.
And the burial was also just as unforgetable. The sky was dark by the time we got to the Muslim cemetery and it threatened to pour anytime soon. But surprisingly it didn't rain a drop until the very end.
My Dad and my uncles were the ones who placed my late grandma's body into the grave. Then we offered more prayers after the grave-diggers were done covering the grave and the makeshift tombstone was erected. That was when it started to pour.
It was refreshingly cooling with the wind blowing across the open fields of tombstones. Brought me back to that day when I was sketching in front of a mosque in Putrajaya. It was slightly pouring, the wind was blowing from the lake and the prayer call echoed across the square in front of the mosque (which was where I was).
I felt spiritually at peace then and I was certainly feeling equally at peace at the cemetery...
Just when we ended the prayer with an, "Amin," the heavens opened. But I (and I could have sworn this is true) was not really drenched. We were forbidden to cry at cemeteries lest we might upset the 'occupants' but it was like (as cliche as this might sound) the sky was crying on our behalf.
It was like I felt close to God there and then, you know... and in a way I felt it was a special way to part with her.
It felt beautiful.
It felt right.Labels: grandma, personal
 
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...
Bitched on: Thursday, December 14, 2006
Time: 12/14/2006 12:47:00 AM
In a strange way, I feel comforted to know that she passed away shortly after she fell ill. It means Mother (that's how I address...ed my Grandma...) didn't have to endure anymore suffering. And I know she is now in a better place.
A place free from the pain.
sigh...
...
It was a nice funeral last Monday (Muslims believe in burying the deceased as soon as possible; so no wakes whatsoever).
Sure, there was all the mourning and crying (especially me, I think I cried more than all my male cousins put together... surprise surprise...) whilst during the takziah (funeral) at Mother's place (which now, as my sister had reminded me, shouldn't be called 'her place' anymore), but there were also prayers of forgiveness and recitations of the holy Qur'an (the ayat Yassin); which made the day very spiritually... special, you know?
I have never felt more closer to God.
But it was really heart-wrenching to see my dad and my uncles cry after the kapan (shrouding of the body with white cloths after the tukang cuci mayat has cleansed the body). That's when we were allowed to give her a farewell kiss (tears are not allowed to fall on the deceased face, which is the only part exposed; so we really had to fight back the tears). I felt like hugging my Dad when he broke down but I found myself equally inconsolable.
And the burial was also just as unforgetable. The sky was dark by the time we got to the Muslim cemetery and it threatened to pour anytime soon. But surprisingly it didn't rain a drop until the very end.
My Dad and my uncles were the ones who placed my late grandma's body into the grave. Then we offered more prayers after the grave-diggers were done covering the grave and the makeshift tombstone was erected. That was when it started to pour.
It was refreshingly cooling with the wind blowing across the open fields of tombstones. Brought me back to that day when I was sketching in front of a mosque in Putrajaya. It was slightly pouring, the wind was blowing from the lake and the prayer call echoed across the square in front of the mosque (which was where I was).
I felt spiritually at peace then and I was certainly feeling equally at peace at the cemetery...
Just when we ended the prayer with an, "Amin," the heavens opened. But I (and I could have sworn this is true) was not really drenched. We were forbidden to cry at cemeteries lest we might upset the 'occupants' but it was like (as cliche as this might sound) the sky was crying on our behalf.
It was like I felt close to God there and then, you know... and in a way I felt it was a special way to part with her.
It felt beautiful.
It felt right.Labels: grandma, personal
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About heBitch
Shazi ~ sHa-Z ~ Ezan ~ Izan
Typical Virgo:
perfectionistic, idealistic, vain, materialistic, elitistic, analytical, skeptical, devoted, loyal, romantic
Typical youngest child:
pampered, stubborn, spoiled, adventurous, demanding, free-spirited, spontaneous, charming, very much loved
I am a dreamer who keeps waking up to nightmares.
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