I've been waiting for this day since my mum told me you were diagnosed with Alzheimer's and Dementia. But as the grandchild who lives the furthest away, I saw the signs before anyone else did, as it's those who see people less frequently that notice big changes. So I guess you can say I've been thinking about when this day would come for nearly nine years.
But even though I saw your decline and knew it was coming - even after being on alert that it would be "any day now" for pretty much the last nine months, it still took me by surprise. The last six days, you held on for as long as you could, even without fluids, but it was your time. Your decades of fasting and praying has no doubt secured you a place in Jannah where you can be reunited with your husband - he died when I was so young that I never even knew what to call him.
The past few years have been a huge strain on everyone, but I know it was harder on you as people couldn't really visit. It's also been hard on my mum, your eldest, who did her best to look after you and the rest of her siblings, especially when you had to move into a nursing home. I know that's not what you wanted, but due to the circumstances, everyone did the best that they could.
I never saw you in person in the nursing home, due to the border being closed, but the photos and videos I saw were a shadow of the woman I once knew. I'm choosing not to remember you from those images, but to remember the sound of you exclaiming my name with joy when you would opened the door to see me.
I'm choosing to remember your apartment in Hong Kong, and being with you when you first moved to Sydney - before you had your furniture arrive in your new place and we sat on the floor with a cupboard door as a make shift table. I'm choosing to remember all the sleepovers, the food, and the pure joy you seemed to just exude whenever we were around. Oh, and of course the Rudy Coby "coolest magician on earth" special that you taped for my brother and I that we watched probably hundreds of times over the years while at your place.
I'm choosing to remember the birthday emails (yes, EMAILS) you used to write me - something a lot of people my age are not lucky enough to have received!
The last time I saw you, nearly three years ago, you didn't remember my name, but your face lit up with that same joy when you saw me, even if you didn't remember why. Since then, the world has become a different place, and I knew that I likely wouldn't see you again.
I'll miss your funeral, as custom is for you to be buried within 24 hours, but I'll be visiting Australia next week, and will celebrate your life with my mum and everyone else.
I hope you're resting easy.
love always,
Zarina
No outfit to accompany today's thoughts, but here's a classic pic of the two of us at the airport in Hong Kong.
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