My Mother

There she was, sitting on her favourite easy chair. She was always on that chair whenever we visited her.


I held her hands and kissed them. I gently hugged her. She was literally only skin and bone.


Her facial expression was mixed; sometimes it was just like a child longing for a friend, but some other times she was just like her own self.


"Who's this?"


"Azahar"


"How many children you have?"


"Twelve..."


"Can you name them?"


"Siti Aminah...I can't..I'm confused.."


"What about the nine of us? Who is the eldest?"


"Sutie...I can't...too many branches..."


She could not remember the order we came into being into this world.


She did not know what time it was too.


She recognize all of us and her close friends who came visiting.

 She has lost most of her memories...she is having Al-Zheimer...


That's my mother...

To Allah I pray that she will be happy no matter what condition she is in...

I love you mom...