Story From My Mother

Story from my mother.
The flight from Gold Coast was uneventful. We arrived at LCCT KLIA on time. Got off the plane, walked on the tarmac to the terminal building, passed the immigration and custom in record time. The custom didn’t even look at me, I just walked pass.
Outside my brother Kholid and his wife Saripah was waiting for me. He drove to KL to his mother inlaws place at Taman Melewar, Gombak. Its was maghrib when we arrived at Gombak. I was offered tea, and dinner of rice, omelette, tomyam and some petai.
Kholid lend me his Kancil car for me to drive back to Tanjong Karang.
Kholid told me that the day before he died, ie on Sunday, my father asked my youngest sister, Noraziati Khairiah to go for a drive with him. He showed her places that was dear to him, and told her stories from his old days. Like where his friends was etc. They didn’t go out for long. So the day when he died, it was very much a surprise for my sister. She was the first to be back in the village, and she stayed at the cemetery until midday.
Yes I managed to drive safely, albeit with a little bit of almost mishap near home. Malaysians do drive fast, and sometimes with annoying headlight on high beam. Small wonder that accident rate is very high.
That almost mishap was my not recognising the entrance to my parent street. I turn in into somebody’s property, and at the last second I stopped and moved back to main street. I didnt know that someone was following me close behind. He honked me. I ignore him and continue on to my parent street, but he followed me close behind, honking and flashing headlight. When I stopped, I said hello to his father at the passenger seat. I said sorry, and we parted company.
I arrived at my parent’s place close to11pm.

My mother told me that my father seems okay the previous few days before he died. She told me that on Saturday my father asked my mother to go to market to buy rice, because the grandchildren will be coming on Monday. 5kg rice bag wouldn’t be enough; it has to be 10kg. It seems that my father knows the day when he would die. That Saturday he also went to the market with my sister, to buy foodstuff.
My mother told me that she couldnt understand why the grandchildren would all be coming on Monday, when they already came that day and gone back to the city. Now she figure out that my father knows that Malaikat Maut is coming on Monday.
Sunday was the day when Kak Tuminah, our neighbour had walimah for her son, Izam. My father stayed home, but my mother went to the wedding in the morning, coming back to check on my father twice. He was okay. My brother offered to take him to hospital to get medication for his heart and stayed at the ward for observation, but my father refused. He said its difficult to do prayers at the hospital, and they ignore him there anyway. He preferred to be home.
Monday around 2pm 22Dec, his heart giving him trouble. Tahiron came to take him to hospital, but my father refused. He doesn’t want to go anywhere. The Tahiron called for ambulance, they are expected to be over in 10 minutes. My mother was with my father at the time. She taught my father to say Shahadah, and followed, first time in audible voice, the second time barely audible, and by the third time, he was gone.

My sister Maslina told me that when she got home at 7pm, he has been washed/ghusl and wrapped in kafan ready for the burial in the morning.