A possible come back?

I was tagged on Facebook yesterday (24th April 2015).  So someone has started a challenge for all bloggers to reactivate and kick-start the old hobby. Yes, to blog or not to blog? (As a fellow blogger's website goes, or went).  Below is the post I was referring to.  Kak Teh is the one creating a ripple effect to fellow bloggers who have mostly converted into Facebook fans: lazily opting to type in single lines or paragraphs to update their activities. For some, this may be hourly (or more frequent, of course!) while others, perhaps daily or occasionally.

Clearly, Facebook has been more convenient and personal.  However, I have developed a sort of love-hate relationship with Facebook in which I despise the cheap publicity but love the 'sharing' concept.  Oh well!

I have always loved writing. Through it, I get to express my feelings, thoughts and doubts.  It often gives me a sense of direction.  Only very recently, I attempted to write regular notes on my FB and I find that I'm still struggling to discipline myself to write regular posts.

Upon reflection, the blogging experience has Alhamdulillah, opened so many doors of friendship for me.  

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I wrote the above on the 25th of April.  I scheduled the post to be published at midnight of the 6th of May. Patiently, I have been waiting.  

Now, at the eve of the 6th of May, I can't help reminiscing blogging days of yesteryear. Perhaps it was easier when one was in a foreign land and blogging became a way of connecting with the world (and gaining sanity).  Obviously, it was a different kind of social media more popular than Twitter, Facebook or IG today.  

Some ridiculed bloggers for the cheap diary/journal-writing format; enlisting the challenges of bringing up children or sharing recipes that work.  More interestingly, the more heated ones are those creating controversy: too intimate or too politically inclined.  In my humble opinion, the writer (blogger) has all the right to write about anything under the sun.  As readers, however, it is up to one whether to frequent the blog and whether to agree or disagree with the writer.  

I, for one, prefer more general reads and of course, writers (who do it for a living) like Kak Teh's Choc-a-bloc, Kata Kama and Write Lah were among the ones mostly frequented.  Of course, when I google for recipes, then I'd probably land on Dari Dapur Maklang or Kitchen Tales, among others.  My Monologues and Petite n Powerful were written by women who have lost their husbands, just like me (singular, not plural).  What will remain etched in me are blogs written by strong-willed cancer fighters who have ceased; the late Raden Galoh, R2D2, Mas Afzal and Ruby Ahmad. If you want to read entertaining and witty pieces, then you HAVE to go to Serenity Now.  Oh, there were definitely many more meaningful blogs but this mammoth of a woman cannot list them all down. Sorry.

I realize that most of the blogs listed on my blogroll are no longer active.  I probably have to do some spring cleaning and tidying up here, and put up new curtains(links).  Will do some serious blog-hopping in the evening, when bloggers worldwide are awake!

To all bloggers, welcome back!

Autumn

Autumn Song by Katherine Mansfield

Now's the time when children's noses
All become as red as roses
And the colour of their faces
Makes me think of orchard places
Where the juicy apples grow,
And tomatoes in a row.

And to-day the hardened sinner
Never could be late for dinner,
But will jump up to the table
Just as soon as he is able,
Ask for three times hot roast mutton--
Oh! the shocking little glutton.

Come then, find your ball and racket,
Pop into your winter jacket,
With the lovely bear-skin lining.
While the sun is brightly shining,
Let us run and play together
And just love the autumn weather. 

********************************************

The days are getting shorter, the temperature is getting lower.  Praise the Almighty for the occasional sunny days we get, in between the odd foggy and rainy days.

Ironically, the golden foliage haphazardly splashes hope into my soul as the different shades remind me of the different phases, places and people of my life...

When a fighter leaves...

She is the epitome of hope, life and strength.  But now the flower has wilted and has returned to her Creator, Ar-Rahman Ar-Raheem.  Sis Dalilah Tamrin of http://onebreastbouncing.blogspot.com has fought her last battle and is now laid to rest.  Innalillahi wainna ilaihi rojiun...

I marvel at the fight that she put up with.  Her will to live is awed at and her outlook in life was simply marvelous.  A glance at her does not reveal that she's a cancer patient but she fought it so long; from breast cancer to metastatic cancer.  The smile she flashes were genuine and soothing.  The words she shared were  more than words of wisdom; they were words from a true survivor. 

Only the chosen one is tested with such pain, as it is believed that pain is a sign of forgiveness.  It is only through pain that we humans are reminded of our borrowed time on earth and of the more meaningful life of the hereafter...

When I started blogging in 2006, I stumbled into her somewhere in the blogosphere.  But I didn't make much of it.  Later, our paths crossed again when my late husband fell sick.  Apparently, she had known him before.  From then on, I followed her blog very closely and became good friends with her.

 

I had only met her three times during my short vacation home in 2008.  I remember meeting her for the first time at Amcorp Mall on a Sunday morning.  Warm and friendly, I instantly felt like I had known her forever.  The next meetings were unfortunately scheduled at hospitals.  I can't recall which one was first, but I visited her at HKL once and I once fetched her from her office to bring her to meet my sister in HUKM.  After I returned to the UK, we kept in contact through our blogs, text messages and also mail.  She never forgot my birthdays.  When she sent me a copy of her book, Kanser Payudaraku, I kept the book close to me even after I finished reading it.  It was as if I could feel her energy every time I touched the book.  Strange but true. Cancer connected us.

Life is short.  Dalilah has lived her life to the fullest, despite all the pain.  She met so many people and touched so many hearts.   My heart goes out to her family who has stayed close by her side.  They must be so proud of her though...  

May Allah bless her soul and place her in jannah. Al-fatihah.

A Tear And A Smile (Khalil Gibran)

I would not exchange the sorrows of my heart
For the joys of the multitude.
And I would not have the tears that sadness makes
To flow from my every part turn into laughter.

I would that my life remain a tear and a smile.

A tear to purify my heart and give me understanding
Of life's secrets and hidden things.
A smile to draw me nigh to the sons of my kind and
To be a symbol of my glorification of the gods.

A tear to unite me with those of broken heart;
A smile to be a sign of my joy in existence.

I would rather that I died in yearning and longing than that I live Weary and despairing.

I want the hunger for love and beauty to be in the
Depths of my spirit,for I have seen those who are
Satisfied the most wretched of people.
I have heard the sigh of those in yearning and Longing, and it is sweeter than the sweetest melody.

With evening's coming the flower folds her petals
And sleeps, embracingher longing.
At morning's approach she opens her lips to meet
The sun's kiss.

The life of a flower is longing and fulfilment.
A tear and a smile.

The waters of the sea become vapor and rise and come
Together and area cloud.

And the cloud floats above the hills and valleys
Until it meets the gentle breeze, then falls weeping
To the fields and joins with brooks and rivers to Return to the sea, its home.

The life of clouds is a parting and a meeting.
A tear and a smile.

And so does the spirit become separated from
The greater spirit to move in the world of matter
And pass as a cloud over the mountain of sorrow
And the plains of joy to meet the breeze of death
And return whence it came.

To the ocean of Love and Beauty----to God.

I'm now thinking whether I should write a depressing piece of entry when the hormones are juggling to keep the mind sane, or a super-duper optimistic and goody-goody piece that would hopefully knock in some sense into this roller-coaster head of mine. Sigh... this is what it's like being a woman. And, without her best friend around, it's quite difficult to keep everything on a leash.

Suffice to say, I am grateful to be granted great and wonderful friends who help me through life: directly and indirectly. In most cases, they allow me to reflect on His greatness which is never-ending. Single-mothers, single ladies, professional supermoms and tested individuals shine me their strength and courage through shared stories of their daily trials. For me, the challenge of bringing up four children is sometimes just too overwhelming for me hence the reason to seek help from the only One.

I'd better go and drown myself in some coffee. Anyone for a cuppa?

Our new abode

I'm letting the pictures do the talking this time... ;)

The move

Being the youngest in my family, I was fortunate enough to never need to move houses - ever! Yet, I remember resenting this as I envied friends who were lucky enough to experience making new friends and venturing new places.

Today, I find that life is more vulnerable. We have just moved to our fourth house while being in the UK. It's the second move I've made without my man. Extremely exhausting. Very nerve wrecking. Terribly overwhelming.

The tears that have dropped, the muscles that have ached and the nerves that have gone unsettled - they are all undescribable.

I extend my utmost gratitudes to friends who have made my transfer much easier, Alhamdulillah. To those who helped me pack, lift, transport, unpack, arrange and clean up, you are all precious gems! Isn't this prove that my prayers are answered?

"O my Lord! let my entry be by the Gate of Truth and Honor, and likewise my
exit by the Gate of Truth and Honor; and grant me from Thy Presence an
authority to aid (me)." Surah Isra (17) verse 80.

This move was not planned. It came like a zap of lightning; an offer that could never be turned down. Not only do I get an accommodation extremely close to the university and children's schools, but it is also hundred quids cheaper than what I paid previously. The house may be a tad smaller than the other houses we've lived in but it has a gorgeous garden at the back: suitable for garden parties! It's His rahmah. It's rezq.

Of course, the children initially protested against the move and I understood their feelings. Still, I try to make the children understand how important the move means to me. Hopefully, this Hijrah will bring us barakah and ease our journey through life...

Oh, and my twin boys managed to complete their memorisation of the Yaasin just before the move - Alhamdulillah!!

Dandelions

Many objects are often associated with certain elements in our life. For some people, they become symbols of power, wealth and ranking.

For me, the dandelion is a very significant flower that draws on many special memories with those close at heart. The pictures above were snapped at the Walsgrave Cemetery with my Sony Cybershot more than a month ago.

Many months ago, a dear friend who's majoring in alternative medicine recommended dandelion tea as a form of detoxification as it reduces inflammation. It is highly diuretic and particularly good for women. When another friend enquired whether this particular flower was the weed in our backyards just like the one in this picture, another friend joked, "That's dande-lalang lah!"

The dandelion flower, in actual fact, looks more like a Chrysanthemum, with yellow petals all over. The picture below, taken by Mamasarah back in Spring 2007, shows my second twin throwing a bunch of dandelions up in the air.

Once it has finished flowering, it will turn into seeds; the whole head closes up, and the next time it opens up, the yellow petals change into white fluffy strands which carry hundreds of seeds. It is great fun plucking the dandelion in this form and blowing them in a puff.

To me, the dandelion represents life: Whole, but vulnerable to outside factors. One blow will be enough to set each seed-bearing parachute free. One minute you're all intact, and the other, you're afloating in the air alone!

(Picture of older twin taken by Mamasarah in 2007)

On a cold and frosty morning

Freezing freezing cold! The weather forecast had warned us that temperatures would plunge to as low as -5C last night and that we'd wake up to a layer of frost. So that was what we got: a blanket of frost on the cars, rooftops and ground.

It was too cold to let the twins cycle to school. The weight of their bags and warm clothes worried me a little, so I drove them to school instead. That was the deal we cracked since the beginning.

The thermometer indicated zero degrees celcius. I had let the engine run for a good 5 minutes or so, while spraying the de-icer on the screens and turning on the heater. Even on our way back from sending the older two, it was still zero degrees. Yeah, you'd love to think the thermometer was fooling you, wouldn't you?

I walked the younger two to school, all wrapped up like big bundles of snowmen. The summer was such a wonderfully warm one that we had almost forgotten how bitingly cold winter could be. Winter coats, gloves, hats and scarves are essentials a mother's got to make sure their children have before leaving the house. Ironically, the more they put on, the more I worry because the likelihood of losing one of the clothing items is terribly high! And imagine the rummage we have to go through, looking for let's say, one glove?

Driving off to university, I glanced at the thermometer again. 2 degrees celcius. Looks like I'd better get used to it. So as usual, I tune in to Hearts radio station, and get transported to the past with Time Tunnel, where they play songs of yesteryears and ask you to name the year of the song and what you were doing at that time. What else could you do on a frosty morning, eh?

A little is better than nothing... Or is it?

I should count my blessings for being granted a whole month of company by the man who has fathered me for 37 years; yet saying goodbye was torturous and deep-cutting. I soon discovered that it was not only me who drenched pillows, but the children also did the same. I pulled each of them in my arms and whispered to them to be strong as well as grateful for the pleasures of life that He showers unto us. Deep in my heart, I prayed hard that He will take all the pain away... as quickly as possible.

Earlier on, the children were thrilled to pieces to have dear 'ol grandad around. Tok Bah came specifically to spend time with his four grandchildren (he had 29 others back home, including 15 step grandchildren). He had had enough of the United Kingdom from his student days - back in Kirby College in Liverpool during his bachelor days, and also the University of Birmingham in the 70s. Hence, he was not really interested in seeing much of the country even though I did bring him back to his alma mater in Birmingham as that was too close for us to miss.

In 1996, he came back for my graduation and we looked for what was left of yesteryears. Except for the black iron gates, there was no sign of Kirby College, while the guest house in Selly Oak, Birmingham was exactly as it was - seemingly smaller in size to someone who had grown bigger and older. We did a fair amount of travelling at that time: from scenic Scotland to Lake District then down the north west, cutting through the west midlands, before making our way back up north. I also remember strawberry-picking in the outskirts of Edinburgh. Magnificent!

As prior mentioned, this time around I brought him back to Birmingham, where memories were made with our loved ones. Although I was only a tiny tod back then, there were some vivid incidences with my late mom and brother of which I can never forget. For instance, I remember sobbing on my late mom's lap after she asked me how I'd feel if she died. Simply ironic! I also recall the tape recordings we made to send home to my two sisters. At that time, making telephone calls were expensive while mobile phones and Internet simply did not exist. Therefore, text messages or web chatting via Skype/ YM/ google were objects of the future you never really thought much of. So, into the tape recorders we spoke and sang (and cried), of which was only heard by people back home approximately a month later. Little did I know that the cassettes became priceless to me much later, as a souvenir from Mak - who I never really got to know.

Let's get back to the present time. A few weeks ago, I was able to serve my old man English food which I know he loves - smoked mackerel and brussels sprouts to name a few! I must say that it's just so good to have another adult in the house whereby I can cook hot chilly meals and various vegetable dishes to enjoy with. Just like the old days, I can fix asam pedas mackerel or sambal terung, and not worry about it not finishing. The platter was always clean!

The children dotted on their grandad who gave them the attention they never had enough of. He enlightened them with stories and talked to them about their achievements throughout the day. He headed prayers with the boys and made them brush up on dusty pieces. Thanks to Tok Bah, my boys now know a simple piece of after prayers' du'a in Arabic - complete with opening and ending! It was my target to get the boys to learn it by the age of twelve because I know that it is part of the targets for those in KAFA (fardhu 'ain) schools in Malaysia. With Tok Bah's help, the boys managed to learn it in less than a couple of weeks. Now, all I have to do is to help them build it up gradually - just like the way I learnt it during my teenage days.

It was certainly great while it all lasted.

Naturally, when it was time to bid farewell, a shiver ran down my spine.

I'm now back on my own. Physically, mentally and emotionally. Too many people come and go in my life that I should by now be immune to all these emotional roller-coaster rides. I remind myself that the only one who remains close to us is Him and because of that, I am never ever alone. Physically perhaps, but not mentally and emotionally.

I'm not sure where I'm heading but the journey continues...

Two years ago

Asyhadu an laa ilaha Ilallaah... wa asyhadu anna Muhammadarrasulullah...

I incessantly whispered this in his left ear while his mother whispered in the right once his breathing pattern changed. They were slow and heavy. In a matter of minutes, he was already gone...

I can play this scene repeatedly in my mind. Or perhaps the scenes of the past few days or weeks. Two years ago, today - 18th Syawal, he returned to our Creator.

I have no regrets but the human in me can't help feeling the lost of a man so close. So with every pain or flashback that I have, I probe for lessons to be learnt. What did he do right that made it easy for him? What have I gained from the experience? What have I done to prepare for death?

Everything here is not ours to claim, but the ownership belongs to the Almighty.

(Apologies for a sombre post!)

Lillahi ta'ala

It is easy to forget that sometimes we do things for the wrong reasons; to impress, to oblige, to solve other problems, or to get acknowledged. The niah (niat) is vital and everything we do has to stem from the soul reason, i.e. lillahi ta'ala, or for Him - our Lord.



We seek knowledge, respect the elders, eat and drink, care for our family, friends and children all because of Allah s.w.t.



There's no such thing as 'I'm doing this for you...' or 'If not for my mother, I won't be doing this..'



It's time for a pause. Reflect and remember. Adjustments need to be made in our daily routine. I thank my eldest sister who injected this reminder in me some time ago (yet I often forget).

فَبِأَيِّ آلاءِ رَبِّكُمَا تُكَذِّبَانِ
Then which of the powers of your Lord would you deny? (Surah Ar-Rahman: 13)

Christina Rossetti's

UPHILL

DOES the road wind up-hill all the way?
Yes, to the very end.
Will the day's journey take the whole long day?
From morn to night, my friend.

But is there for the night a resting-place?
A roof for when the slow dark hours begin.
May not the darkness hide it from my face?
You cannot miss that inn.

Shall I meet other wayfarers at night?
Those who have gone before.
Then must I knock, or call when just in sight?
They will not keep you standing at that door.

Shall I find comfort, travel-sore and weak?
Of labour you shall find the sum.
Will there be beds for me and all who seek?
Yea, beds for all who come.

I don't want to miss a thing...

If you pulled up the sleeves of my shirt, don't be surprised if you see a line of blue bruises on my arm. That's to illustrate how often I still have to pinch myself every time I think of the past 19 months. So surreal.

To some it may seem like a long time already. Enough time for a bleeding heart to heal (borrowing the words of MHB), to recover from grief and bereavement, and to get back on my feet and move on. Some even have funny ideas about what I should and should not be doing.

To some others, the wind has been breezing through. So fast has time sailed pass that it almost went unnoticed.

Yet, regardless what, I still get a shiver down my spine when a vivid image of his laughing eyes and wonderful company comes haunting. I still drive with tears streaming down my cheeks when one of our songs goes on air, such as Aerosmith's I don't want to miss a thing; or sleep on a wet pillow at night, realising that our love was short-lived. These do not happen everyday but when it does, it actually humbles the self and strengthens the faith.

Hence, I continue to count my blessings He has given us all. I keep the children entertained with stories of what their late dad and I experienced while bringing them up. From things they used to say to things they used to do - the children love reminiscing the past that they hardly recall. In fact, Aerosmith's song was our dedication to our precious moments together bringing up the children, with the line 'And I don't want to miss a thing' sung every time one of them becomes extremely curious or inquisitive...

I could stay lost in this moment forever

Every moment spent with you is a moment I treasure

Dont want to close my eyes

I dont want to fall asleep

Cause I'd miss you baby

And I don't want to miss a thing

Cause even when I dream of you

The sweetest dream will never do

I'd still miss you baby

And I dont want to miss a thing

Three times lucky

For each day in the past three, I have been blessed with good news. However, I'd like to keep my first news private (only close ones know) - which came in the form of a phonecall on Wednesday afternoon. Number 2 and 3 are as below.

Number 2 (day 2)

Two years ago, I had fun preparing English tea to welcome a new friendship with mamasarah. Two days ago, I had the pleasure of hosting a coffee session with the ladies in our area. You see, out of the nine of us who made it on Thursday, 6 are students, 1 working and 2 housewives who have come to accompany their spouses. As most of us studying here are full-time students/wives (minus moi)/mothers, we hardly have enough time for ourselves. Hence we decided to organise some ladies' time-out by going out for coffee when the kids are in school. ;)

We had our first two sessions in cafes around Coventry and just spent some time releasing stress. This time around, our chief organisor suggested we have coffee at my place since some of them had not been to my place yet. I accepted the offer with open arms. I've not had time to organise a proper house-warming session even though many have unofficially warmed it over breakfast, tea and dinner. Having the ladies around was very apt and timely indeed.

Since it was mid-morning snack time, I decided to prepare what we'd get in the shops if we had gone out - scones with strawberries and clotted cream, chocolate brownies, cheese tartlets and chicken pies. I then thought hard. The timing would very well drag on to lunch so I might probably need to prepare something slightly more filling although I knew some of the ladies would be bringing some food. I opted for something a little spicy: mee kari.

So there we were, nibbling on the platters of food (we also had cheesecake, nasi lemak, spaghetti goreng, pau, date halwa and caramel pudding) while sharing some stories of the past and present. Some of us didn't know each other so well as we barely had the time to just do what we were doing without children interrupting!

To round it all up, by the end of the day I felt blessed to have friends who made good company.

Number 3 (day 3)

When I came home from university in the afternoon, I was surprised with a parcel - awaiting for me in front of the door. Ooooh... Malaysia mari! The handwriting was like my sister's but as I flipped it over, I saw that it was actually from my dear friend, Aida. I know she had texted me on my birthday, asking for my address. I had thought that she was going to send a birthday card through the post. Of course I had no idea at all that she would be sending me that special gift.

It was special indeed as it was an Ariani tudung (scarf) for me and a few other tudungs for little Princess! Okay, okay... so I admit I didn't know what an Ariani tudung was a month ago until Aida told us (the KK girls) about it. She had just been blessed and decided to don the tudung. It was really a pleasant surprise to us all. Aida has been showered with rahmah and hidayah from the Almighty, and I am confident that this is still just the beginning for her. If you're reading this, Aida, thank you very much dear! Nevertheless, somehow I don't really agree with the words in your card:

no matter too big, no matter how small, you deserve to have it all.

We can't have it all, but surely, the little things that we do for one another actually puts a smile on the face and warms the heart! :)

What else can I say? Allah loves us all and ensures that we are always surrounded by wonderful people to keep us company while the one person you need and miss most is missing. Praises to the Lord! In Him do we seek forgiveness and help, and in Him do we surrender...

Waves

Some emotions haunt me like the waves beating the oceans. They come so furiously and they leave ever so quietly. At moments, I try to inject positivism by casting dark pieces into the wild sea. Only faith in Him, the most merciful, the most gracious, will keep me dissuaded and calm.

When the night releases its dark drapes, it often wraps me up with a sense of serenity and tranquility. This is the time for me to pause and reflect on all the rahmah and nikmah He has gifted me with, and all the trials He sets out to test me with. On the praying mat I humble myself and surrender to Him. Small insightful daily incidents of today and yesterday remind me to stand firmly on my feet, balanced and focused.

At times, even the wonderful foursome who keeps me breathless and panting most of the time get on my nerves. Yet, I try to extinguish the blaring flames of hormones belonging to a woman in her mid-thirties. It's a tough call but it has to be done, single-handedly or not.

Meanwhile, let the waves keep on cleaning the shores. I will pick the treasures left along the coasts, and I will thank Him for these little treasures.

Let me walk on the coastline towards my destination for I will get there soon. Indeed, InsyaAllah soon I will.

Bouncing in Spring

When Spring pounces on people on this side of the globe with bright sunny spells, everyone beams and flings away their thick winter clothing while abiding to the 'less is best' rule. Who in the sanest mind would sit in the shades and suffocate themselves in walled buildings while Mr Sun is out smiling?

Run on the green grass, sing in the warm air, twirl in the fields... It's been wonderful weather after Mr Winter went away, Alhamdulillah.

A contrast to the short, dark and gloomy days during winter, the days keep stretching away as if to make up for the lost time before. With sunrise before 6 a.m. (fajar around 3-ish) and Maghrib only at 8-ish (hence Isya 10-ish), it's time again to set our alarm clocks to cater for the changes. It's not an easy task, I tell you... but nonetheless possible!

We're now saying goodbye to the withering daffodils, who were around to greet the arrival of Spring. Other petals are blooming instead, multi-coloured and harmonised. It feels soothing to see flowers on landscapes; just like it is at the cemetery. The flowers we planted last Spring is blooming again. Yesterday, the children planted some petunias on it as they want it to be filled with plants that would help recite gratitudes to the Almighty.

It's a good time of year. Would warmth in the air mean warmth in the heart and soul? Only time will tell...

New place

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!

When stressed out...

Today I thought I'd end the abuse I've been giving my body (denying the exercise it deserves and the indulgence in caffeine, sugar and carbohydrate) by getting back to my oldself and making that 5 km run. Okay, so maybe I brisk-walked more than run today, but boy, it sure made me feel good! Hoorah!!

I need to get all these negative vibes and ugly thoughts out of me. I need to walk out of gloomy scenarios and walk my stride. I need to get back in control. With His guidance, of course...

Sometimes it's more than annoying when you get into that situation where you find yourself searching for that bit of crumb that fell into your shirt, lost in between your cleavage. You know it's there - you can feel it - but you can't seem to reach it and get it out. Sorry guys, it's perhaps a girl thing. No men is expected to understand this but I'm sure the honeys do.

The last evidence of snow in the form of a giant snowball in our garden has finally melted. The sun is out, the sky is blue. Winter's moving away and the days are getting longer. Pangs of sweet mementos in the crisp air never fail to remind me of yesterday and how much he is missed. I know he'd like me to sweat it out, so that's what I'm doing...

A promising start (for some, of course)

We've had a warm start welcoming the new Hijri year where we fasted and had a dinner slightly more special than other nights. Then, for the new gregorian year, we were blessed with the company of a wonderful family. Despite the plunge in temperature, our house was filled with unexplainable warmth - of giggles and laughter (not forgetting fights and cries), where games like Zombie and Simon Says became instant favourites to some. It was definitely a perfect way to wrap up the school holidays for the children.

My children and I are soldiering on into the new year with new resolutions and recharged determinations, albeit the mass weight and unsettled matters on my shoulders (funny how people are always telling me to keep busy as there's no way I can do otherwise!). I have been surprisingly very calm, Alhamdulillah, trusting in Him and only Him. Subhanallah... perseverence and patience, whilst surrendering totally to Him is the best and proven thing to do! And trust me, there's a vast difference between theory and practice!

However, while we snugged closely (while stuffing our faces) and indulged in merry moments together, in one corner of the world are our brothers and sisters facing a holocaust of events. Images of the proven cruelty are all over the internet, downloaded on blog posts (example) and distributed via email. I even stumbled upon a blog containing interesting insights as they are written by real people currently affected by the war. I laud movements (such as this) to step in and help as much as it is ever possible. There is no limit to what we can do to help. For instance, in the issue of giving donations, why not contribute a little bit more than the usual. Feel the pinch, let it be worth it. It's not the usual coin or note we drop in donation boxes at the mosque or circulated at the office. Perhaps think of that new mobile phone you had your eye on, or the holiday you have been saving up for - sacrifice it and the reward is yours in Jannah, InsyaAllah...

Furthermore, this is perhaps the best time to gather our strength and TRULY TRULY boycott products from Israel. Yes, say goodbye to the usual brands such as Maggie (no more Maggie Mee), Nestle (take your break with something else now!), Marks & Spencer (boo hoo... my lingeries and biscuits!!). This will really be the best time to put that on our list of resolutions. Hey, we've managed to avoid Kinder chocs (which are by the way yummy) as a move to boycott Dutch goods, you know?

When we talk about 'sacrifices' and 'hijrah', this is what it is really about. Believe this: the more we give, the more we will get (when the Almighty is made the central reason )- if not here, then in the hereafter.