While I was preparing Santai to receive customers on the last Mother’s Day, news came that our immediate neighbor, Pakcik Saad dies. Walked with my mak to his house, paying my last respect and helping the family for the wake. We were among the first to arrive.
There he was, so tiny and laid motionless. His face covered with thin veil and arms folded.
I could not stay long because the cafe was opened.
Walking back, my mind flooded with the memories or rather recollection of my childhood at Pakcik Saad’s house. Ironic isn’t it when he was alive, I didn’t even remember his face but on his passing, I could vividly recall how we were budak-budak kampung used to play on his front yard, main guli, galah panjang, zero point and even masak-masak with his daughter Nita. He would served us with icecream “plastik”. All flashes so clearly in my eyes.
“It well-up and rained”.
He was a good man. A nobody but I shed tears for the sadness I had inflicted upon myself. How like many others,surrounded by people whom we only missed them when they are gone.