RMO Day 39

Second day puasa. I’m feeling, like, neutral and fake positive?

I’ve a lot of thoughts dah since waking up, of course. Since I don’t know what to talk about, let’s talk about my dad. Nazimah called me about an hour ago, crying, to tell me that my dad was not responsive. Earlier in the morning he sort of went into seizure, maybe, his legs and arms were lifted and tiny bubble were going out of his mouth. Then after that he just wasn’t responding. Uncle Jie & Cik Mas is there and so are some their neighbours baca Yaasin and all. And an ambulance just came to take my dad, I don’t think they left yet because my sister isn’t responding.

I feel nothing. But I’m not sure if I’m really ok with it, or I’m just blocking stuff. I have accepted that my dad is going to die, and quite frankly, I was waiting for him to die? I think it would just be easier for everyone. That sounded really selfish, but it is true. The house will be paid for, Aunty doesn’t need to take care of him anymore and she can start sewing and make money and whatnot (although she does have a victim mentality, even Nazimah, and they’ll probably feel sorry for themselves. Do I look down on them? Kinda.), me and Anin don’t have to feel guilty, although quite frankly, I’ve dropped it a while back.

I tried to help, man. And looking at my arm right now, and how it has healed, I’m damn freaking sure he would have had a better life quality than now. All because takut sakit. I asked him, again and again, until when is he going to start another treatment? He wants to listen to one doctor, and I’m also pissed off with Nazimah and Aunty, because how the hell can you not question the doctor until when? That’s stupid. Dumb. Spineless. And now they’re crying themselves dumb because he’s so fucking sick and dying.

God, I said this before, in fact, it’s my motto, “I don’t pity stupid.” And they are stupid. It’s not that they don’t know, they could’ve asked, they could’ve probed, but they chose not to, because they’re scared. And that’s stupid.

And honestly, what is so fucking wrong with death? It’s life. We are basically on this earth to die. There’s nothing taboo or bad about that. It’s life. It’s OUR FATE. And just lying to yourselves that Papa’s going to be ok and getting better is being in denial that is NOT healthy.

I’m angry. I’m angry at them, at Papa, and also at myself because I’m not there to take the reins.

But why do I even want to? I have 4 kids and a baby coming. Why do I want to bother susahkan diri and risaukan diri? I think it’s because I want to distract myself, from my own life. From the things I’m supposed to do, but have not done. I guess I want that sense of ‘heroism’ and accomplishment. A card that I can use in the future to feel like I did something, like I took responsibility.

Regardless what Abg Khalid said, I mean yeah, he is my father. Fine, I forgive him. I forgive him for all the times he wasn’t there, he wasn’t being a father. There were moments when I was super younger that I can remember I had fun with him, but there was only 2-3? Where I truly felt fun. When we were staying next to Wan and he played PlayDoh with me. When we went on this bridge in the forest and Mama was scared. When we went up a rollercoaster. Yeah, that’s about it.

Bad moments? Hahaha a whole lot more. When he burnt my bantal, when I got whacked because I wanted water and accidentally kicked their Risk boardgame, when they were arguing – the knife, the splashing water. Then he fucking left for a few years and I’m in the middle of a damn tug-of-war between the two of them. Fuck them.

It brings out a feeling in me, that makes me cry, but I’m not sure what. It’s not anger or rage, but like, kemak. But it’s all in the past, and I want to let go, I want to be at peace with ghosts of our past, and be detached of past emotions. Not be detached of past emotions, but detached with the thoughts I associated it with. These are all learning points for me to remember to make memories with my children. Happy memories.

Make them feel like they matter.

What do you think?

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