Today, 7th February 2008 is the first anniversary of the return to Rahmatullah of my father, Allahyarham Hj Othman bin Abdul Ghani. Only Allah swt knows how much I missed him. AlFatihah.
I posted this to the google group of my ex-University mates on Father's Day last year. I thought I should post it here for the benefit of the readers of this blog and as a record for future reference. I've included some photos which I gathered from my files and made minor corrections
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Sallam semua,
This is my continuous effort to describe myself to all of my friends from our Carbondale days. I had initially wanted to continue my story chronologically from the time I return from Carbondale (i.e. a continuation from Parts 1 and 2) but today being Father's Day, I thought I would like to change it and write about my father instead.
My father, Hj. Othman bin Hj Abd. Ghani bin Ahmad was born in 1932 in Melaka. He was quite a good student and was selected to be teacher. When he told his father that he wanted to be a teacher, his father had no objections. However, my father cannot register as one because he was underage at the time. He still wanted to do it and approached his father again and asked him to meet up with the person who was in charged of the teachers intake. My paternal grandfather was quite a respectable person in the village because he was working with the British Government as a Medical Assistant at the Melaka Hospital.
My grandfather visited this man who wanted one buffalo to "close one eye" on the fact that my father was underage and allow him to register as a teacher. (FYI, I am from Jasin and this "close one eye" mentality was in Jasin even before independence, not just with the current MP from Jasin who happens to be distantly related to me). My grandfather refused to give the buffalo even though he could easily afford it. My father who was very disappointed decided to leave our kampong, Kesang Tua, and left for Singapore. There he joined the Singapore Police Force. There were already many people from our kampong who had joined the police earlier including a few of my father's cousins.
He only returned to Melaka after a few years. Those days, the police are only allowed leave once in a few years, but each leave would last 3 months. In his first leave home, he decided to get married and chose my mother, Mariam binti Bachik. They got married in 1957. My father was 25 years old then while my mother was 15 years old. I was born in 1958 and the couple had another 8 children later. I was then left in Melaka to be taken care of by the couple to had been taking care of my mother all her life... That is another story.
My father worked in Singapore until 1973 when he retired at the age of 41. The Singapore government had by then replaced their police force with Singaporeans. My father decided not to take up Singapore citizenship and had to retire, at a very young age. By then there were 6 of us. Later, back in Malaysia, while in retirement with no income except his pension of SGD230 per month they had 3 more children. Having worked in Singapore since his young age, my father was unable to cope with kampong work like rubber tapping or even tending the paddy fields so he was unemployed most of the time. So my mother had to make kuih and kerepek and ask my siblings to sell them at school. He did worked as a shop assistant in the kampong's cooperative sundry shop at one time. In the meantime all of us kids were growing up and had school fees and expenses to be taken care of. By the Grace of Allah swt, all of us were quite okay in our studies and everyone got one form of scholarship or another and thus does not require additional funding but every beginning of the year would be tough as all of us needed new uniforms. I remember I had to make do with one pair of shoes and two sets of uniform for the whole year all the time even in my secondary school. At one time I did not take part in any uniform society as I cannot afford to buy their uniforms.
In 1976, I left for USA and I do not know what happened to the family in the next 4 years but I know it was tough as everyone was growing up. Again, by Grace of Allah, all of us were very healthy. We hardly had to see the doctor, so no unnecessary medical bills to think of. In 1980 I returned to Malaysia. The joy of having the eldest son in the family returning from overseas and started working was however shortlived. Hardly a year after my return, my mother passed away at the age of 40. My youngest brother, at the time was only 2 years old. I remembered the day well, it was one day before Ramadhan in 1981 and I was supposed to celebrate Hari Raya with the family after 4 years overseas.
My father was in a real bind. No work and now no wife but a few young kids to take care of. My grandmother (father's mother) agreed to stay with us and look after the children. However, she was already quite old and keep asking my father to remarry so that there will be someone to help him bring up the kids. But he refused. Slightly over a year later, it was my grandmother's turn to meet the Almighty Allah swt. My father was continuously encouraged to remarry so that the young kids have a "mother". Finally on 11 October 1984, he consented to a proposal made by one his closest friends (they were together as policemen in Singapore) to remarry. Everything was arranged by this friend of his. Even we, the children, were not informed about it until the last minute. Our new Makcik was in her forties but still single. I remember going to the wedding with my eldest daughter in tow. This lady is fantastic. She must be the best stepmother in the world. She treated all of us like her own children, maybe better. My only regret is that she did not have a baby of her own with my father. There are many good things I can write about her but that is, again, for another day. I hope I can do that soon.
My father was very involved with the goings on in the kampong. He was in the mosque committee, the Imam of his surau, JKKK, UMNO (but later joined PAS after the Reformasi years), khairat kematian and a few other things (not unlike his eldest son).
In 2002 or thereabouts my father began complaining about discharging blood with his stool. He later told us that he had a history of constipation and piles when he was young while in Singapore but it was cured by some traditional method. He did not go to hospital. All his life he was never hospitalized, not even once and he seldom fell sick, only the common cold and fever. I brought him to Melaka General hospital and through my sister in law ( a specialist at the hospital) managed to arrange for him to see a surgeon. The specialist surgeon, Mr Wan was a very good doctor but have a behavior very similar to Dr. House of the tv series. The minute, he inspected by father he told my sister in law that my father had colorectal cancer. They did a biopsy but it was negative and we were very happy but Dr Wan was not happy. He said the lab was wrong and ordered another biopsy. This time it was positive but the cancer was at a very early stage. Dr Wan recommended that an operation be carried out immediately.
As the eldest, I was tasked with convincing my father to agree to the operation. Somehow, I managed to do it and we went to see Dr. Wan. An operation date was fixed, it was 2 weeks before Hari Raya Haji. A few weeks before that date one of my sisters called me and said Ayah has changed his mind. Apparently a few of his friends had convinced him that the operation would make him having to wear a bag to take care of his waste has his bowel functions will be rendered useless. They also suggested some traditional methods which they said has been proven successful. I immediately went back to talk to him. We had a showdown in front of one of my uncles and most of my siblings. The situation was tense, everyone kept quiet. Only the 2 of us were talking. He began to raise his voice, which he have never done to me before. Then he said: "This is my life, I'll decide what I want to do with it". I had no choice but to relent, but not without throwing my last card. I told him, it is his life but I have made the arrangements for the operation and the hospital had delayed somebody else's operation to accommodate him. If he wanted to cancel it, he must tell Dr. Wan himself, not me. I thought he would not want to have to explain to Dr Wan but he said he will follow me to the hospital and tell Dr Wan.
The next working day I arranged for us to meet Dr Wan. Upon seeing us, Dr Wan asked my father: "Hah Pakcik, nak lambatkan operation ker? Nak Raya Haji dulu?" My father looked at me hoping that I will answer the doctor but I just looked away. He had no choice but to say that he is not going through with it. I was anticipating some sarcastic remark from Dr Wan but he only said: "Kalau pakcik tak setuju kami tak boleh paksa. Kalau nak operation nie berjaya pakcik kena setuju dan kuatkan hati. Jadi kalau tak hendak tak apa lah" and he walked out of the room.
We left the hospital and we did not utter a single word from the hospital to his home about 30 minutes away. I sent him home and immediately left for KL. I remember that I sallamed him but could not remember if I said anything. Later I told my sister that I want to see my father's friends who had managed to convinced him not to have the operation. My father heard about it and told my sister "kalau Along kamu berlaku kurang ajar pada kawan-kawan ayah, aku takkan maafkan dia". I finally decided not to pursue the matter any further although I was really pissed off with his friends, who ever they were.
A few months later I received a call from my sister saying that Ayah is not too well and he is complaining of stomach pains. She also told me that Ayah has agreed to the operation. I was worried. He must be in real pain to say that but he dare not tell me directly. I called my sister in law and asked her to arrange for Dr Wan to do the operation. My in-law said that Dr Wan has asked for transfer back to his home state, Perlis. Somehow they managed to find a slot just a few days before Dr. Wan's transfer. My father had to go through all the checks to see if he is fit for the operation. Luckily, he was ready. By then I was again in "good terms" with Ayah as I know I need to convince him that everything will be alright.
The operation was a success. They managed to remove the cancerous part of his colon. Dr Wan's only worry was whether it had spread to other parts of him although x-rays showed that was not so. My father was getting better. The only thing was he had to use a bag for his waste but Dr. Wan promised this will be temporary as he wanted the operation wound to heal properly before my father starts using it again. During this period my father did not pray as he felt "dirty" but he record in his diary all the waktu sembahyang that he missed. Being a policeman my father had a good habit of keeping a diary. He diligently wrote down all the happenings in his life, even when he goes to the market. Sometimes, when I'm at his house and he is not around I will sneak in to read his diaries. It is interesting to say the least. He put his thoughts in writing including how proud he is about his children. He never tell us of these things but he wrote them down. I used to cry when I read his writings about us and also about my mother.
After a few months, my father was back to normal and he led a normal life again. He even managed to go to Umrah with my Makcik. We were all so happy for him. I brought him for his annual checks to see if there is a recurrence but Alhamdullillah all were okay.
Sometimes in late 2005, my father's health began to go bad. He was often sick. Sometimes he forget things. Now he do not want to go to hospital. On a few occasions we thought we have lost him but he survived but he is now very weak. He had no appetite to eat and lost a lot of weight. I began to count the days that I may lose my father. Things have to go on. My youngest brother planned to get married. We discussed about it in 2006 and had the engagement ceremony. Then we decided to have the wedding during Chinese New Year holidays in 2007 (18 Feb). My father was involved in the planning but he was often very moody during the meetings I held to discuss the wedding. Many times I agreed with him during the meeting only to decide otherwise with my uncles and aunties. He made calls to his friends inviting them to the wedding and spends long hours with them on the phone reminiscing about their old times in Singapore.
5th February 2007 was my 49th birthday. It was also the day my father was admitted to hospital. My brother in law who is staying behind my father's house brought him to hospital. He agreed only because he was in so much pain. When they called to inform me about it I thought it was a case of gastritis because he has not been eating regularly. I asked my sister to schedule for one of us to be at the hospital at all times.
On 6th February 2007 I was busy with work. There were many things to do in the office. At 3:00pm I was supposed to have a meeting in Putrajaya. Just before lunch I told my staff that he is going for the meeting on my behalf. I'm going back to Melaka to see my father. I felt something was not right. At about 2:00pm I drove to Melaka, alone. I reached the hospital at about 3:30 and went to see my father. My brother who stays in Temerloh was there. Ayah was okay but still complained about the pain. I talked to the doctor but he said they do not know what's exactly wrong. All his vital signs are okay. They suspected gastritis based on the fact that he is not eating regularly but they are worried about his heart beat which was not regular. I left the hospital about an hour later after asking the doctor to give my father additional pain killers. I left after I sallamed by father but I also kissed his forehead this time. I don't do this normally. On the way home to KL my thoughts were running wild about losing my father.
7th February 2007 was my son's 21st birthday. He is currently studying in Melbourne but was on leave at the time. We had planned for dinner that night. I went to the office as usual. My wife sent the kids to school. The following is the exchange of sms I had with my brother who was with my father (in hospital) on that day:
6:44 am from my brother: "Assallamulaikum. Ayah bangun pg ni dah Xde rasa sakit perut lagi. Dah solat, cuma rasa lemah. suruh cal makcik nak balik. Macmana? T.k.
I replied: "Sallam. Alhamdulillah. Tunggu Dr datang buat ward round dan mintak keluar. Apa2 call me"
9:57am- "Ayah kluar tandas muntah byk sangat jd lemah. Skrg Dr sedang buat CPR"
I replied; "Keep me informed of any development"
10:14- "Dr. kata td jantung ayah terhenti 1/2 jam. Dr dah pulih. Masih tenat. Doa"
I did not reply but I called my wife asking her to gather all the kids and asked her to prepare to go back to Melaka for a few days.
11:32 - "Jenazah dah bertolak dari Hosp. ke Kesang. Al-Fatehah".
I left the office immediately, got home, collect my kids and head to Melaka. I've lost my father. Though I know it is something that is inevitable, I was not prepared for it. Words cannot do justice to how I felt then so I'm not even going to try.
When we arrived home, the house was full of people. I went straight to my Makcik. She was devastated, as can be expected. I cannot remember the rest. My uncle was in control of everything so there was no need for me to do anything, not that I can do anything even if I had wanted to. Being the eldest I had to show that I'm in control of the situation. I would like to believe that I did a good job.
By 3:30pm everything was done. I took part in the mandi jenazah. There was no more waste in my father's body. All had been vomitted out at the hospital. Before we left for the mosque, I led my brothers, brother in laws and a few cousins for a solat jenazah. It was the first time that I become an Imam for sembahyang jenazah. I had prepared for this a long time ago. God has granted my wish. I choked with tears many times during the solat. I hope Allah swt grants our doa on that day. I again choked with emotions when I had to give a short speech to those present before the jenazah left the house.
We reached the mosque just before Asar. After Asar prayers we had the proper solat jenazah. This time my younger brother who is an Imam of his surau in Temerloh led the prayers. There were about 100 people performing the solat. Alhamdullillah.
Later that night we had a family meeting. I told everyone present that we should go ahead with my brother's wedding, as planned. Life must go on. There was no objection. I am now the head of the family. Such big shoes to fill. What a responsibility.
Today, on Father's Day. I would like say: "Happy Father's Day, Ayah, even though I never said this to you before because it was not our family tradition to do so. I missed you so much. Despite your limited resources, you have managed to bring us up as decent human beings. Alhamdulillah, I am now blessed with more material wealth than you had but I'm not sure if I can bring up my 5 kids as well as you did for the 9 of us. Forgive me, because I know I have done you wrong and hurt you many times before "
Semoga Allah mencucuri Rahmat Nya keatas Roh Ayah dan memaafkan segala dosanya. Al-Fatehah.
Wassallam, dear fellow Salukis. If you reach this stage, I thank you and hope I did not bore you.
Hussin
