THE YOUNG MAN IN MY HEART

The Child In My Heart...No.3 ……..A miracle baby

At 3p.m. on the 20th May xxxx, yet another child was born to this family. Five years apart from my number two and seven years apart from my first (sweethearts). He was our first born, to be born at a teaching hospital near here, the University Hospital.

The reminder from Prof.Rachagan was to take counts of the foetal movements and note them on that sheet of paper. No one had reminded or cautioned me of any excessive movements which led to s distress resulting from any possible reasons or "incidents". Anyway, after the normal visit for ante-natal check up, I was rudely awaken by the vary word "cesarean" - CS. I slumped on the hilly bucket chair next to me the vary moment one magic word was uttered from the Professor's mouth.

I woke up three hours after everything was over…shivering with my teeth knocking each other of the extreme cold OT. Suddenly this lady nurse appeared from somewhere, busily asking for some details about me. I was feeling so drowsy from the effect of anesthetic given earlier. Otherwise she would have got a piece of my mind! Couldn't she wait until I was completely out of sedation? I would not have gone off anyway, not without my baby and not in such a condition of course.

Three days later, I was introduced to (him)...my cute Hafiz, by the handsome Professor, (as other new mothers who were sharing this cubicle, described him). He was all the while being kept in the incubator for observations and of course his cute little tiny face, fingers, toes and all fascinated me so much. Allah has spared him his life from an acute fetal distress. He went through an acute distress the night before. Out of innocence, I ignored that and went to sleep and waited till the next morning to go to UH. Alhamdulillah, he survived.

This young man of my heart was ever so fragile and adorable. Two of his elder sisters were dotting on him at every available moment to touch, cuddle and help with the chores. As there was less trouble to manage him, I was ever so thankful to the "children of my heart" for their helping hands.

At the age of three, we took him for a year's life in West Berlin. He has a special lady friend that was 80 years young then. How they had communicated, only Allah knows. But they seemed to be having time together at least once a week and that was when I have received a free "baby sitter" service from dear Mrs. Yarmushkiwitz. The other lady friend whom we called Mdm.Hitler, was not so in favor of small kids. So, she just befriended me. But on those days that I fried dried fish, she dreaded it. Davrient Weg, a much less busy street, was where we once resided.

While his two elder sisters went to school at "Unter den Kastanien", he became my closest ally. He was my pal who would accompany me to Aldi in Gross Strasse to collect huge maroon cherries. On our way home, he would normally close his eyes and fell asleep. When getting off the bus, normally people would help to carry his stroller or when there were none, I had to struggle down with the kilograms of fresh cherries, himself and his stroller. Much was written about him in my story entitled Behind The Berlin Wall.

As he grew up, he became the favorite to everyone for the vary reason, he was then the youngest in our family. He became a favorite to K.Zaza too. They would spend time together. The later was "unofficially" his-lady- in -waiting...hahahha. Much was taught and learned together. They were so close until they grew up.

Time at the nursery was not so enjoyable. Drawings were not completely done on time. I always went to see Miss Rebecca about him. He was not interested in it at all. Unlike Kak Zaza who loved colorings and writing, Hafiz simply did not fancy those. But we eventually have to come to her aid to complete them. Even during hospital visits, we have to color homework for her (Kak Zaza).

Anyway, primary school was such an experience. Abang Amin was there to look after him but sometimes got bullied by him too. He was much bigger than Hafiz, even now, even much taller. But they were buddies then. Now Abang Amin is doing his Diloma In Business Studies at IKRAM. Each morning he jumped on the LRT and other public transport to attend classes.

Hafiz also went to a boarding school, far away from home but only a five-minutes drive from my family home. So, he was always expecting early morning visitors to come and visit him. My elder sisters and her family usually took him his favourite food and drinks along. Thank you Cik A for your bits in making Hafiz felt accompanied and keeping him happy, feeling so much like home. Cik Kah and Cik Mah took turns to come by as well. Thank you dear sisters for coming to my aid while I was so far away from him.

It took him several hours traveling by road, an hour on a flight to reach his school. He too had done so well in his SPM. I went to visit him quite frequently either by road or flights. Once I took a bus ride home (as suggested by my sister)...that bus ride sent bebee-en-rose into stitches if she remembers now how I appeared on arrival at the bus terminal in Putra Place. Believe it or not? I was half dead of....mabok...darak sungguh! Doh nowk wak gunne stabowk... During the ride, I felt like asking the driver to changes places with me!

During a long school holiday...you returned to UH for a few night's stay and accompanied by Kak Zaza and mummy. Your tonsils were removed. Earlier on the anaesthetist told me the consequences of having local anaesthetic to an asthmatic patient. The sleepless nights we shared with you was a sad, sad night indeed. The aftermath of the operation was enormous...need not mention here...anyway, Dr.Tengku Faisal could not perform the op although it was only a minor one...(for some or minor reasons he was our family friend) the risk was there as well.

Meanwhile, school holidays were spent helping me as my chauffeur. Other sisters had worked part time while waiting for their SPM results. But unfortunately Hafiz did not earn anything...while chauffeuring me around. He got his driving licence after his 17th birthday. His elder sister, Kak Tasha had hers at the same age too except for Kak Zaza who obtained hers at the age of 16.

ne day, after one year of having his "P" sticker on our MPV - Citreon Evasion, he sms(d) me a message.

"Mummy, today you can throw away my "P" sticker on your car."

So then I asked,

" If I were to throw away your p, where are you to find another p for all your spellings?"

"I have more p's with me, mummy. Don't worry"...

After his fifth form, he was in UTM doing his Diploma In Mechatronich. He was in the City Campus...you could read my moving little story in "The Treasured Sheafer Pen". We usually visited him whenever he asked. Otherwise, he would be busy with his project and studies. After some time, he drove himself during the holidays to bring home his belongings which look more like going on a haj trip. Hafiz, today I am wearing your-never-worn maroon shirt that was too big for you...as you thought...Actually that shirt would fit you well because you are tall and lanky.

Hafiz is now pursuing his Degree in Computer Industry in University Teknolgi Malaysia Skudai. Yesterday, he called to inform there is no credit hours to be substituted for his shorter Degree course because he changes his course. Never mind Hafiz, whatever is destined and rewarded by Allah is something worth pursuing and would be blessed.

Now this young man in my heart (in the next room) is no longer around. He has left his room. Not until his next holiday, that it would be reoccupied. Presently it seemed empty, lonely and dark. Each morning, I took a peep out of my vary own window and left I turned, but it was still dark.

The other day we cleaned your room, I saw your shadowy figure (in my mind's eyes) sitting by your computer, editing my recorded lessons from Dr.Abdullah Yassin's kelas tafsir. You were so patient with your work. You know that my MP3 has gone missing, right? Last Sunday, our relative, Wan Norizan from Kemaman, told me she was going to give me an MP4 that her son no longer used. Alhamdulillah. My patience pays, Hafiz. I told you I was going to buy when I have some money. Now I do not have to get one myself.

Hafiz, thank you for being there for me as and when I needed you. You always lent me your helping hands whenever needed, so patiently bearing with my tempers and cerewetness. You sacrificed your time and all else, needless to mention here, for me, your sisters and our family.

I understand why you had refused my voluntary hair cut this time hahahahahhahaha! (please read: The Hair Cuts, The scissors , The tears. )

The morning as you were leaving...

After saying all those prayers (amin) and laughter that followed when we teased you........ I was really touched. Suddenly the light moment was abruptly changed... you turned and hugged me sobbing, in tears and :(...

"Mummy, please forgive me for everything, for making you angry, all my wrong doings, halalkan makan minum saya and all your helps".

And as usual, mummy's tears were forever ready to flow...(almost like turning on the golden water tap).

Congratulations on your recent success.

You deserved your success which came through our prayers, you hardwork and your own perseverance. Many more successes were to come if you keep up the speed you are now at. Alhamdulillah Syukur Ya Allah.

Hafiz, for all those past experiences you went through, I hope you could take them as experience worth learning and that would eventually lead you to take bigger strides, be more matured and more responsible towards yourself, us, our religion and the community we now live in.

Thank you for having such a wonderful golden heart, high tolerance rate, rich with manners and forever sacrificing and willing to help others. My appreciations, Amir Harith's, your sibblings and everyone whom you have touched...including my plants which you sometimes showered with water and your loves are noted here.

ALL THE BEST IN YOUR ENDEAVOR. I LOVE YOU AND MISS YOU.

MAY ALLAH BLESS YOU AND ANSWER ALL YOUR PRAYERS.