Mak Tua left us at the end of 2004, not too long after, followed by Pak Lang. And now, Pak Uteh is in GHKL.
Last 2 weeks, Ayu and I went to the hopistal, ward 18 of the main building to visit him. The situation was quite horrible, a small ward, beds were all over the place like the verandah and even in front of the toilet entrance.
We walked along the row and saw him sat on the bed. Somehow it was really a touching moment for me - remembering when I was a kid, we were close until one incident (i.e. sommisunderstanding among the folks in my father's family), we started to distant away from each other (not only me, all of us) for almost 15 years.
I held his hand and asked if he still know who I am. His son (sat beside him) said "dia tak berapa nampak dah". I tried to continue talking with him, but it felt awkward. Before we left I held his hand again, placed an envelop (sedekah) on his palm, I could see tears in his eyes.
Driving back home, what came across in my mind was my aunty and uncle have left us one after another, Pak Uteh is now in his existing condition, abah with his heart by-passed not too long ago and Mak Usu's battle with cancer. Soon this generation will be gone forever. And one day, as time passes by, my turn (my generation) will go through the same thing.
That's life, isn't it?
Last 2 weeks, Ayu and I went to the hopistal, ward 18 of the main building to visit him. The situation was quite horrible, a small ward, beds were all over the place like the verandah and even in front of the toilet entrance.
We walked along the row and saw him sat on the bed. Somehow it was really a touching moment for me - remembering when I was a kid, we were close until one incident (i.e. sommisunderstanding among the folks in my father's family), we started to distant away from each other (not only me, all of us) for almost 15 years.
I held his hand and asked if he still know who I am. His son (sat beside him) said "dia tak berapa nampak dah". I tried to continue talking with him, but it felt awkward. Before we left I held his hand again, placed an envelop (sedekah) on his palm, I could see tears in his eyes.
Driving back home, what came across in my mind was my aunty and uncle have left us one after another, Pak Uteh is now in his existing condition, abah with his heart by-passed not too long ago and Mak Usu's battle with cancer. Soon this generation will be gone forever. And one day, as time passes by, my turn (my generation) will go through the same thing.
That's life, isn't it?
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