Sunday, June 21, 2015

A Father's Love...

I was lying in an almost dark room, trying to make a 2.5 year old fall asleep when out of nowhere I was transported to the time when I was about 5 or 6, lying down on my Pakcik's (arwah) bed in Nenek's house and Ayah was rubbing my back, trying to put me to sleep. And I remember feeling so sad when he did that because I knew then that when he tried his best to put me to sleep at Nenek's house, it would be the time for him to travel to Johor Bahru where he was teaching.

Suddenly, my heart felt heavy and like a million pins pricking my chest, tears rolled down uncontrollably.

I remember those days, the day after he left, I would be sick. I would be feverish, and I would be sad. And Nenek had one cure, that Ayah would leave his last worn kain pelikat or shirt and I would hug that till I fell asleep.

That was me, the little girl who loved her Ayah.

And I still am that little girl every time I am with him.

You see, girls always have that special bond with their daddies. It's the man they would always look up to, the man who would never ever break her heart, the man they know who will love them unconditionally despite them being a failure to the world.

And more than once that I failed. And every time, Ayah has been there silently supporting, ever accepting, always praying for the best for me.

When I gave birth to Azfer, Ayah came to see me at the ward and the first thing he did was he kissed me on my forehead. My eyes welled, but being the tough girl, I hid my tears. I don't think he ever kissed me out of the blue, except after salam raya. For days I would recall the kiss. And every time, I would feel overwhelmed just like when he did it at the ward.

He must have been worried.And he must have been glad.

Over the last couple of years, I have been swamped with work and the kids, and more often now I would be guilty of not asking how he is doing or if he is well. And I would be bogged with guilt and would try to make up by asking trails of dumb blonde questions to cover up.

And nights like this one especially would make the guilt even worse.

I must make the trip home tomorrow, and break fast with him. Would not be the best solution for the guilt, but at least I could see my greatest pillar laugh and talk and that would add to my stock of strength, to be used when I need it most.

That is him to me - my pillar, my rock of rocks.

To all fathers reading this, Happy Ayah, Babah, Abah, Daddy, Papa, Walid, Abi Day, not just today but every day. You are your son's first hero, your daughter's first love.

Ayah and Azfer on Raya 2014

~ A mother's love is unlimited and never fades, but a father's love gives you strength to go on with life. ~