“The weird, weird thing about devastating loss is that life actually goes on. When you’re faced with a tragedy, a loss so huge that you have no idea how you can live through it, somehow, the world keeps turning, the seconds keep ticking,”
– American author, James Patterson
NOTHING in this world can ever prepare you for the loss of a loved one.
In the early hours of Saturday (May 25), I lost my grandfather, Salleh Baki.
He was 74.
To be honest, I still haven’t fully processed his death – everything still feels surreal.
My family and I were on a short getaway trip to Johor Bahru for my cousin’s wedding that weekend.
My grandfather arrived with my grandmother, one of my uncles, and his daughter on Tuesday (May 21).
While waiting for the rest of our family to arrive on Thursday (May 23), my uncle took my grandparents out and about.
It became a ritual for him to share pictures and videos of their outings as live updates in our family group chat.
When the rest of us arrived two days later, we went out for dinner at Selera Senibong Seafood.
My husband sat next to my grandfather, who had a hearty appetite and enjoyed the meal.
After coming home from dinner, he started having sniffles which continued the next day.
The solemnisation ceremony was on Friday (May 24), my grandfather sat together with my husband and I.
Despite feeling under the weather, he was still his chatty self and spoke about various things including how much he enjoyed the seafood dinner we had.
Halfway through the solemnisation ceremony, he excused himself to go to the apartment above the event hall.
The medication he took made him drowsy and he wanted to catch some sleep.
I went up to check on him several times, I was tasked with the job of persuading him to go see a doctor which he refused.
So, I hung out with him and another uncle who was keeping him company.
After the solemnisation ceremony was settled, a group of seven of us decided to go to Johor Premium Outlet for a quick shopping escapade.
I went to say goodbye to my grandfather without knowing it would be a final farewell.
I remember telling him that my husband and I will be back in Kuching a bit later than everyone else because we are going to Bali.
I told him to wait for me to come back with goodies from Bali.
Before falling asleep that night, my aunt texted me to inform me that my uncle was taking my grandfather to a 24-hour clinic.
Apparently, his fever had subsided, but he suddenly went pale and had difficulty breathing.
It was late, and I was rather sleepy, so I told her to keep me updated and apologised if I didn’t reply promptly.
Sadly, I fell asleep and woke up to a phone call from my mother at 3:46am, saying that the hospital was performing CPR on my grandfather.
Hazy from sleep, I was confused and I couldn’t understand what was happening.
Less than five minutes later, my mother called again to tell me that my grandfather had passed.
My husband and I quickly went to my mother’s room, unable to fully believe what had happened.
The thing about losing a loved one is that nothing can truly prepare you for it.
It is human nature to sometimes imagine the worst-case scenarios involving the loss of a loved one, and those thoughts inevitably bring us to tears.
When it happens, there are no words that can adequately describe or express how one feels.
The mixture of emotions and confusion, especially in the immediate aftermath, is overwhelming.
There is an intense sense of disbelief, as if you are caught in a bad dream from which you cannot wake up.
Grief, sadness, and pain wash over you in waves, interspersed with moments of numbness and shock.
Every memory and cherished moment shared with the loved one, flashes before your eyes, intensifying the heartache.
My grandfather was a simple man, but he was loving and kind to his family members as well as those around him.
He liked to tease his grandchildren, including myself, and this is something I loved most about him.
In my 27 years of being alive, I have never seen nor can I remember him being angry or unkind to others.
He was always jovial, with a ready smile and a twinkle in his eye that made everyone feel at ease.
His gentle nature and playful spirit were a constant source of warmth and joy in our lives.
He had a way of making each of us feel special and loved, whether it was through a shared joke, a comforting word, or just his reassuring presence.
His laughter was infectious, and his kindness was boundless.
There are so many fond memories that I shared with him.
From our playful banter when I visit and hang out with him to previous travels together, I don’t think I can put them into words.
Recalling these memories brings tears to my eyes and makes my heart ache so badly, making it especially challenging for me to write this week’s column.
I am grateful for every moment that I had with him and making the time to see him whenever I could.
I am especially grateful that he was around to attend my wedding earlier this year.
It breaks my heart knowing that he would not be around to witness other life chapters and achievements that I will embark on.
Though he is no longer around, I hope that his children and grandchildren, including myself, will continue to honour his legacy and make him proud through our actions and achievements.
I pray that Allah Almighty grants him the highest place in Jannah.
