Learning from the piece of 'Saying Goodbye'

My today's entry is a derivation from my friend's fantastic piece of writing that impress me a lot. I wonder how he could write in such a lovely way. Smartdog 670 expresses his feeling regarding to his mother's journey to the second life , the eternal destiny of all . I keep reading on this time after time. It's a sad tale of life written with beautiful language and style. Here it goes...

My words tremble as I pour every ounce of my soul into them. They are for my mother; They are for the world. And she drinks them in to her tired body and her nascent soul. She drinks them in as she lies in bed and we say goodbye – maybe for the last time.

I drink in the beautiful image of her eyes. They held me in tenderness when she first gazed upon me in New Rochelle Hospital, June 6, 1970 – the day I was born. The eyes that for 35 years watched me with affection, frustration, joy, pain, ambivalence, fidelity, impatience… love. The eyes that now compel me to realize that I had been wrong about so many things, and how lucky I am to have a chance to make everything right.

I had expected myself to be a complete mess in this moment; a sobbing, remorseful, overwhelmed child who is scared to have his mother leave him for one moment, let alone for the rest of his life. Surprisingly, I’m not. Though my words waiver from time to time under the weight of those particularly hard things to say when you say goodbye, I am generally composed; and so is she.

Instead of the crushing sadness I had expected, I am infused with a fortifying dose of gratitude and respect. Respect for the moment, respect for everything my mother has been through as she battles her cancer, and respect for the extraordinary woman who did so much for the world she brought me into.

There are of course tears and whispers and touches that cannot possibly be translated into words. There is that utterly indescribable essence of the moment; time stops, every molecule of air listens, and you can feel the light around you. You may or may not know what I’m alluding to here, but if you don’t, I hope someday you will.

What now carries me through the difficult hours of the day is a simple realization. I had always been afraid of death – whether my own or someone else’s. I’ve learned there is nothing to be afraid of. Dying is just another way of finding peace. Because of the grace my mother has shown though all of this, I know she’ll be at peace when she decides it’s time for her to leave this world.

One last hug and kiss, and I’m out the door, into the car, dropped off at the airport, and on my way back home. And this is where I finally get to the point.

If you ever have a chance to say goodbye, don’t be afraid to make it count. You’ll never regret it.

Thank you smartdog 670. I learn from you, your beautiful language and style of writing. One way of learning language is by imitating the best piece of writing. It is just like to be success by imitating successful people's principles.

My Ever Best Eldest Sister

My eldest sister is very hard working and being very responsible to her siblings and family. My father died in 1979 of a road accident. At the moment, we were all still very young and my youngest seventh brother was only nineth month of his birthday while my sister had just finished her secondary school and she moved to Kuala Lumpur to find job.

My mother was being a bread winner instead of my late father. Nevertheless, my sister worked hard too to make sure we were all well fed. Together with our mother, she bought us outfits each time the date for eid falls, provided us some money during our needs in the college or university, helped arranging the siblings' marriage and so on. Even though she'd been married she doesn't forget us. She is very generous to give her hands when we need her or during our gathering especially when eid comes. There are sometimes our attitudes irritate her but she always forgive and forget them. Until we grow up, all of siblings achieve our mother's target to be success in education, career and life. No one left behind and some are even more successful when they reach maturity age.

My eldest sister is now receiving the return for all her kindness. All her four children do success in their life respectively. Her eldest daughter is now a lecturer, her second son is doing the professional accountant qualification (CIMA), her third daughter is persuing her degree in Computer Programming and her last daughter is still studying in a secondary boarding school. My mother endows her more hectres of land full of oil palm trees in appreciation for her sacrifice and good heart to us. We accept the mother's decision honestly.

To date, we are still close to each other. All because of my eldest sister's sacrifice and wisdom playing the role to unite us in harmonious bond and relationship. All the best we do to show our deep appreciation especially to our mother and our ever best eldest sister.

In A Nutshell:

Good deeds are always blessed eventually.

Desire To Write

I have always dreamt of having a published piece of writing. I could imagine how happy I will be to see my name be printed in a published article. However I don’t know when my dream will comes true.

In fact, writing is part of silent speaking. Some say that writing is thinking on paper. By the way, it expresses, brainstorms, explores, reveals and applies some remedy to certain people. Writing leads me to explore and enjoy my life as one of my favourite pastimes is jotting down any lines, ideas and expression . Though writing sometimes could hurt me, it benefits me more somehow.

Since writing is not easy to do especially for published writing, I notice that at the moment I need to polish everything that related to writing stuff. It seems like writing has been so far away from me though my heart is still there to write. When I was young, I loved to write. Then, my writing activity took a break for quite some times to let my job took its place. I did videography and any stuff related to multimedia work for a company. I enjoyed them very much. But I could not deny the hunger of pouring inner whispers into words is still too much force inside me. There’s where I tap the keyboard for wording expression whenever I don’t have video editing.

By blogging I hope it could bring me to where I should go in the writing direction, repolish the latent talent, if there it is, and fulfill my dream to write. At least my name is being printed for each entry I post. Hmm.