Missing Mak

One of the three things that we leave behind in this world that will benefit us in the thereafter are pious/righteous children and I am far from it, I know. That is the very reason I always wonder whether Mak and Bak still love me now. I guess they did love me when they were alive. My sisters always tell me that they dream of Mak and Bak but I don't. Maybe once or twice but not often.

If I am to be gauged against Mak on the motherly duties, I would lose out to her in all aspects. While I had a live-in helper for twenty years to help me with household chores and to help take care of my three children, Mak did everything herself raising 12 children, except for Kak Rohaya who passed away within a week of birth. But I guess when my elder siblings were growing up they helped to take care of us younger ones. Growing up in an extended family I reckon there was no problem of unpaid baby sitters. The gap between the eldest and youngest in the family is approximately 25 years. My eldest brother must have gotten married even before I was born, maybe not as my eldest niece is slightly older than my youngest sister.

Mak was the Home Affairs Minister, Finance Minister, Health Minister, Deputy Education Minister (the Education Minister was Bak..He..he..) and the best Masterchef. She was a seamstress, even sewed clothes for us I think. My sisters have to confirm that. There were always cooked food at meal times, unlike me when I was without help my son complained to my sis that he was tired of eating food from styrofoam packaging. I always had breakfast before going to school and my children had breakfast in school. There were always clean clothes to wear, these days I run out of clean ironed clothes sometimes. Now that my son is 19 he washes his own clothes by dumping them in the washing machine. There was a short period when I did the washing and ironing for him after my last helper stopped working.

I remembered Mak dressing me to school. Tying the sarong of my religious school uniform, then it was not sewed like it is today. For a long while I wanted to wear it the traditional way but as time passed I let go of tradition. She made superb french toast for breakfast which surprised my children how Tok Mak knew about French food then. What is more fascinating is the fact that laksa Johor is eaten with spaghetti. The children are shocked that we knew the existence of spaghetti like 50 years ago in Johor. Must be the Sultan's wife influence eh!

I remembered telling Mak I didn't like my name but she told me that it means beautiful in Arabic and not only I was beautiful but she reminded me that I have to be beautiful inside too. Till today I remembered those exact words of hers. Since then I never felt inferior with a name like mine but her words was motivation enough for me to live up to that name if not on the outside maybe on the inside.

Being a homemaker is tough, the difference between Mak and me is that she has a full time job as a Homemaker while I have a full time job outside the home. No excuses not to keep the house clean I guess. I try my best at times but it takes pure effort to have the house spick and span. Beyond me. To console myself I always say to myself that it's ok as long as it's home and the children still want to come home or do not want to leave home. My good friend said that the clutter in the house reflects the cluttered mind. She may be right but amongst the clutter you can stll find space to rest and find peace for the cluttered mind for as long as the house is call home. When with Mak we were always at home.....