Mak...(3)

"Biar orang buat kita, jangan kita buat orang" This was Mak's principle in life. We used to argue it out with her. Being young, ignorant and rebellious, we always pushed her to "buat orang balik". We always said it was unfair to let people off the hook. She accepted everything that happened to her in her life. She was such a serene, the most patient and calm lady. I had never seen her angry. Like Bapak, both of them were not explosive. She never nagged. Bapak never scolded that we were afraid of making him angry. If he so ever raised his voice, we would already ran helter skelter up the stairs. We refused to come down until he was not around. In a house full of people, it was not noisy nor chaotic. It was orderly, neat and well-organised.

Maybe that was why her life was so loved and easy going. Let people do whatever they want - she had suffered from the envy of people. For years Bapak tried to cure her of "buatan orang". She had hemorrhaging and suffered from the loss of blood for a few years. She had to give up her eldest and youngest daughters. Kak Zizah to Bapak's adopted sister and Sue to Kak Che Mah, my half sister. She could not take care of the baby due to her condition. Yet, she was never bitter.

She had nobody. Bapak was an only child after the death of his brother at a young age. They only had the children. Maybe that was why Allah gave them so many children. We never fought with each other. We enjoyed each other's company. We had nobody else except us. We shared most things and in the end, we were more like friends instead of sisters. We were very disciplined, thanks to Bapak. We were pampered in our own way, with whatever Bapak could afford. Yet I felt so rich even though we also used hand me downs, always late in paying our school fees and practically no money most of the time. Bapak may not give us the luxuries of life but we had a big, sprawling home, good food everyday....one thing Bapak was always very particular was food. He would remember each child's favourite food. Each child's birthday. Bapak and Mak had each other.

The last time I went down to see her was the June holidays, 2005. I had just completed my studies at USM. I went to stay at Izwan's house at Bertam where she was living then. I slept with her in the room after talking the night away. I woke up at around 4:00am. She was awoke and sat on her bed looking at me and Ikram sleeping on the floor near her bed. I told her to go back to sleep. She just smiled and told me to go back to sleep. I told her I was going for my pilgrimage in November. She was very happy for me. The next day I took her to the doctor. Waited for her until she told me to go back to my mother in law's house. She didn't want my in-laws and Noor to feel slighted with me. She always thought of other people first.

That was the last time I saw her. She passed away very quietly in her sleep. Always waiting near the door. For her children who seldom return and whom she had accepted would be busy with their lives. I was glad of the night with her. I had no regrets. I had tried to be the best daughter as I knew how. When the others started to cry, I told them Mak redha. She had that uncanny way of understanding and accepting the ways of her children. We had given her all we could to make her life easy and happy. We had no regrets. We loved her and she loved us.

Mak had always loved flowers