Imagining The Morbid

I'm morbid. I'm the "harbinger of doom" whenever the subject of death comes up, as dubbed by a close friend of ours. I can't help it. Growing up, death was on my mind a lot. The ill treatments I got in school due to my ugly spinal braces (lets not go into that in detail) made me think that there must be a better place than this place we're in right now. As time went by and life got better, I often forgot death. Then Ninie passed away, and death is never really far away from my mind since then. But in a morbid sort of way, I wish I could treat death as a closer friend. For the truth is.. death is one thing in life that all of us can never avoid.

On days when the boys are singing their joyful songs and do something silly that makes me laugh, or when H hugs and kisses me and I feel like a true beautiful queen, and when I feel Gibran's body warm against mine while I sniff his boyish scent at bedtime.. death sometimes seems like it can never touch us.

Then H got into the accident last week and brings Ninie into my mind again. The split second of shock she must've felt at that last moment of awakeness, before her head slammed into the wheel and shattered everything that was Ninie, sending her deep into a comma. Then she left her mortal self behind for us to weep over. Thousands of times I often wondered, and still do; what on earth was it like for her at that split second... when the car slammed into the lorry.. her last moments of living. The truth is I cannot vividly imagine what she must've gone through. Because the scenes I imagine are so vividly frightening. Full of pain. So hideous.

Is death really all that? I don't know. Wallahualam.

All I know is that I cannot say how syukur I am that H didn't experience that during that split second when his car was hit, and he went into that skid, and when the car banged into the tree and broke the tree into half.

Ultimately noone can cheat death.

But for now, Allah, thank You for H's life. For our lives.