Just having this little something in my mind lately. And this little something is really something to me.

Times that my parents stood up for me:

i) When I was 50% burnt in 1993, they took care of me to the maximum. Nothing can beat their sacrifices at that moment. I still remember the touch of my mother when she put cream on my body and when she helped me to take my bath.

ii) When the first time I entered a story telling competition, my father was the one who encouraged me to kick my best on the stage. I made it. I won the 1st place with my story about Saidina Ali Karamallahu Wajhah. On the way back, ayah told me that his friend who watched me on the stage said that I have a good future onward in this public speaking field. He was right. Starting by the next year, I joined the debate team (for my primary school) and 9 years later, in 2002, I was one of the debaters who carried the responsibility to bring Piala Perdana Menteri back to my collage (my secondary school, upper form). Everything started because of the microphone at home that I used to manipulate as my stuff as an entertainer. Kaklong and I were a good singer back then, singing Isabella and Fantasia Bulan Madu songs by the rock group, Search, on the living room’s table in our Tok’s house. Ayah was mad listening us singing the songs but that was the very first exposure to hold microphone in our life and that gave us advantages not to be a mocrophonophobia. We enjoyed talking using a microphone pretending as entertainers and that explains why Kaklong can really be a good English and Science teacher.

iii) My parents, both attended my final grand competetions in debate. They travelled all the way from house to be at the places that I had to be. One more thing, they would pay me visits in hostel if I could not go back during end of the month because of the restriction for having my debate discussion with my team. Whenever I was on the stage, to gain confidence, I would search for their faces in the first place and only after that I would be the smiling Sarah on the stage. And there I go, que sera sera.

iv) They always take care of me when I got sick. Hmm. People know that I’ve a disease. When I was admitted to the ward for 3 weeks in Klang and then been transferred to Mentakab Hospital (Temerloh Hospital wasn’t there yet), my mother was the one who came and fro to satisfy my need. Ah. A lot to tell about this. But it’s enough to say that they both were and still are the one who really care after me, my healthiness and my well being, up till now. They are the doctors of my life.

v) They never complained about giving me money. Like my situation right now, they are my bank, my saviors in any way, any condition. Thank you emak and ayah.

Times that I did not stand up for my parents:

i) I admit, I am not a good daughter. I came out to argue with them on a few things. Sometimes, I was just being selfish to myself. I raised up my voice when talking to them. I still remember about me comparing the attention from my parents on Kaklong and I. To me, it seemed that they had paid more attention on Kaklong. I envied Kaklong for this and I kept complaining about this and that. Emak separated us in different rooms since then. And all that I could remember, since that moment was the more I got jealous with Kaklong. It was when I was in form 1, Kaklong was in form 2 and my mother was teaching in the evening session at the nearby school. To show my protest, I went to school by bus instead of going with my mother, I did not pick up the pocket money from ayah on the table, I did not eat anything at school, I did not touch my mother’s cookings at home and many more stupid actions (lasted for one week). That’s how stubborn I was. Very stubborn. And now, I am ashamed of myself for all the stupid things I had done before. But slowly after that, I learned how to be more mature. I feel guilty to have compared their love and attention on Kaklong and I. I know I have hurt them in a stupid way. But then I learned one thing: No parents want to hurt their children. They love their children equally the same. One thing that I learned from that was, I want to love them more and more and more.

ii) Babbling. That is me. Sometimes I babble on small things that happened around me. During the last summer break, when I was at home, I complained why ayah came back late, why emak came back late from school too leaving me alone at home until evening, why Kaklong, Nan and Lan have their own tranports, why can’t I go to my friend’s wedding, why can’t I join the program organized by our association, and even I complained why the internet is slow at certain times. Just imagine, so many why, why, why out from me. How can my parents stand me for having such many whys. That is only from me. What if the two budak kecik at home, Azizi and Aiman, have so many whys to ask too? And there I learned one more thing from them: To love is to be patient. And they are sooooo patient to face me (and the kiddos) at home. In fact, my brother Adam, is even better than me. He can just run his life in silence. No complains, no comments and he, IN FACT, is really a nice mama’s boy to the family. He does the drink in the evening, he cooks rice when my mother is out for school on Saturday, he takes care of the 2 kids when no one is home, he does almost everything that my mother does. He even can cook simple dishes for the kids. And he never complained on that. Yup I do them too. When I am back in Malaysia, I won’t let my Mak Tam cook for us. Only if there’s something difficult to be cooked. I clean the house, I do the laundry, I cook lunch almost everyday and I try to prepare something new almost everyweek. But at my age, I should not have such behavior anymore. Why should I be so childish as if I am the youngest in the family? I should not have complained on this and that. But why I still behave like one? I know I have hurt them in that way. To be childish for asking why, why and why at the age of 23.

iii) During the last summer break, I woke up for Subuh prayer and my mother was in the kitchen preparing breakfast for my father and the kids. She herself then has to move forward in a rush to prepare herself to go to school. And where was I? After Subuh, I kept myself locked in the room and only before they left for work and to school at 7 am, I went out, salam-ed their hands and then locked the main door and continue my reading in the room. Why didn’t I help my mother during weekdays in the kitchen? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? At night, before I went into my room, I saw my mother checking my little brothers’ school uniforms and bags, cleaning the kitchen, ironing her clothes and my father’s shirts too. And then, she sat down at her table, marking her students’ books and after that, she checked the doors whether they were locked or not and only after that, she would head to her room. My mother is an iron lady. Yes, she is.

Comparing the times that I did not stand up for my parents to what have they done for me, I now realize that I am not a good daughter, I treated them unfairly to what they have done for me and I will never can pay back for all the sacrifices they did for me. May Allah bless my parents till end of their lives and may Allah forgive me for all the misbehaves I have done since I was a kid.

Emak, ayah, you are the Mr. and Mrs. Bond in my life. Or to suit the character that ayah likes better, you both are my Mr. and Mrs. Sakor 007 in my life! I love you!