Today is Arwah Pak's birthday. If Pak alive today, he will be turning 64 years old. But Allah loves him more and brought him back to His side. I never write about Pak's death here yet. It's too sad to be written and today, after 170 days he is gone, I need to put it down here. I have written about his deterioration in
here and
here.
Pak is not just an uncle of mine, he was like my second father. In fact I spend more time with him when I was growing up and got more influence from him than my real dad. He took care of me since I was 40 days old. He and Mek spend the day with me and then at night I would went back to my parents house. This routine had been going on until I finished my secondary school.
Everyday he would send me to school, tuition, extra co-curriculum, friends' party, and all over the place. He make sure that his jobs were only at night or will not interfere my school schedule. If he can't made it, he would called his trusted taxi driver to pick me up. He took care of me when I was sick, watched over my grades, find the best tuition teachers for me, make sure I friend with the correct crowd and everything a parent would do to his daughter. In fact what he did is above what a parent would do.
He taught me a lot about life (everything from stock market, politic, being a good mother and many more), asked me to be more critical thinking, answer my questions on religion logically until I understand why something was ruled that way (never scold me if I questioned religion), encouraged me to read a lot, introduced me to a lot of people from all types of life, introduced me to charity works and always remind me to be a good wife (yup, since small! Hehe).
He was an ustaz, loved by many but at the same time in this life, when you are trying to spread the truth, there are some people who are offended and cannot see you happy. But he never back off from what he believe is true and hold on to his belief.
He loved holidaying in islands around Malaysia beside frequent umrah trips. Last year when I came home from US for good, he insisted that we went to an island for a holiday. I was reluctant at first but finally we went to Redang. When I think about it right now, I'm glad I did follow him because that was my last holiday with him and his last holiday before he passed away.
After that trip, he started to have frequent headache before doctor diagnosed him with high blood pressure. Then when he started getting worse and was admitted to hospital, then only doctor realized he was having a stroke. He was conscious only few days in the hospital before he was unconscious for more than 2 months and passed away without gaining conscious.
I remembered first few days he was in the hospital. He asked for few kuih that he loved. I went out to buy for him but when I arrived there, the nurses had put tube through his nose for eating liquid only. Nurses won't allowed me to give him solid food because she scared that it will go to his lung instead. Hearing that, I didn't give him the kuih and put it at the side of the bed. I went down to break my fast and when I came up again, I saw his tube was removed and he asked for the kuih. I asked the nurses if they removed it and I can give Pak the kuih. It turned out that Pak removed it himself (coz he wanted the kuih) and because of that, he was scolded by the nurses. I felt really bad for asking the nurse. I consoled Pak by saying that when he is better, I will buy him the kuih again. Who knows that was the last time he asked for something and that was the last day he can eat solid food. The rest was only milk going through his nose directly to his stomach.
But the most saddest of all is that I wasn't next to him when he passed away. In fact he was all alone. When I went to see him 2 days before that, he didn't show any sign of nazak. In fact doctor asked me to bring him home. Doctor asked me to buy ventilator so that he can use that when he is brought home. I think he heard everything about that. Doctor told me that the last sensory human lost before dying is hearing. He said Pak can hear what around him even though he didn't respond. I believe he heard about what the doctor discussed with me and I discussed with the nurses how to take care of him when we bring him home. Knowing Pak, he will never want to trouble anyone. I guess at that time, he finally ready to let go and didn't fight to stay alive anymore.
It was on 4th of December 2010 at around 12.40pm when a nurse called me and asked me to come to the hospital as soon as possible coz Pak was nazak. Then 10 minutes after that, when we were getting ready to the hospital, the nurse called again saying he has passed away. I cried and cried coz I wasn't there for him. He always told me while I was growing up that he wanted to die in my arms. But I wasn't there.
He looked so peaceful. His 3 months of suffering finally ended. He was buried near to Mek, the love of his life. He followed her after 6 months she was gone.
Finally in his final day on earth, first time in my life I felt like I am his daughter. Doctor refused to talk to anybody accept me coz I listed myself as his daughter - that what he told everybody, I am his daughter. Even on the way to the cemetery, I lead the way to his burial site.
Pak, I love you so much. I have hurt you many times but you still love me unconditionally. You gave me everything I need but never asked anything in return. May Allah put you amongst the best and with His loved ones.
Ps: Pak, for your birthday this year, I donated all your treasured Arabic books to a Tahfiz school. I hope the knowledge pahala will channel to you. I hope you and Mek will meet in heaven and you have peace there.
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| Pak and I on the boat on the way to Redang Island. The last holiday we had. |
In memory of Ustaz Omar bin Johari: 23rd May 1949 to 4th December 2010
Al-Fatihah
