The move finally materialised on Sunday, 29th March. I had asked a team of male friends to help with the lifting, loading and transporting. Packing up certainly wasn't easy because as the things began to pile together, I could hardly move in the house and didn't really have an extra hand. The twins helped as much as they could (read: only when specific orders and supervision were given!). Well, at least they helped me carry most of the things downstairs, and that was definitely a big hand!
Early that Sunday morning, I fixed a simple do of Laksa Johor and egg wraps. I baked two batches of muffins the day before (once in the morning and once more in the afternoon) but instead of keeping it for Sunday, I shared them with friends on two different occasions. I thought I'd do more baking in the evening, but the plan was short-lived and somehow, I unfortunately failed to bake or make any other kuihs for my helpers on Sunday. This, I totally regretted because the number of visitors and helpers I received on Sunday was really encouraging! Thank you dear friends!!
As aforementioned, I have been treating this move, or hijrah, most positively. Yet, in more than one occasion, I found myself wiping away the tears that were profusely wetting my cheeks. It was painful. It still is. We've slept in the house for 8 nights already but I still feel the numbness in my heart. Yes, I know I have to move on and I have to trust Him. Yes, I know that I should never let the past anchor my present and future. And yes, 'life goes on'.
However, I am human.
Setting up home without my soul mate is like drinking coffee without any sugar, having toast without butter, or eating chicken without salt or pepper. Tasteless.
He has taken one of the most wonderful blessings in my life away from me.
It isn't the end of life, of course. But perhaps it explains the stale entries and inactive participation in the blogosphere - my apologies...
Until more umph and zest is added into the hollowness, let me just step back... over and out!