It has been slightly more than a week since Dadima passed away. 1 week and four days to be exact. I thought it would become easier to get on with life as the days went by, but that is absolutely not true. I still miss Dadima terribly.

I have tried to keep my emotions in check and put on a brave face. Over the last few days I have generally succeeded but have failed at certain times.

On Lailatul-Qadr, the most important night of the year where we stay up for the whole night for prayers and don't sleep again till the sun rises, we usually ask for remembrance in prayers from the elders in the family. Every year, we would ask Dadima first. Last Sunday night was Lailatul Qadr, around 4 days after Dadima's death and i couldn't help but missing her.

A few days ago, after having a early breakfast (to observe a fast the next day), I went back to sleep and could have sworn that I dreamt of Dadima. She wasn't the thin and frail person that she had become over the last few months. She was the strong woman I had known for most of my life till now. It was so real; she was walking towards me. And then I remember waking up suddenly and coming to my senses a few seconds later to realise that she was gone. The feeling was horrible. I felt my loss all over again.

Then today I came back from photocopying some readings at the NUS Central Library to find that dad and Asma feiji (My aunt who is my dad's sister) were going through Dadima's things. I just sat in Dadima's bedroom with them we shared memories with each other. Then Feiji left and I got ready to go to Masjid for prayers. After getting ready I went into Dadima's room to get something I left behind and I saw that they had left Dadima's masallo (prayer mat) on Dadima's bed. They must have forgotten to put it back. The thing is, that whenever Dadima got ready to say her prayers, she would put her masallo on her bed in the very same way and then go to the bathroom to do vuzu (washing oneself before paryers). Again, I slipped into thinking that Dadima was still around and she's coming back to spread her masallo. Then I realised it was not true and I started crying. All over again, I felt the sense of loss.

I usually walk all over the house when I am thinking about something such as a paper I'm wiriting or an idea that has just come into my head. The last few days, I have found myself more and more ending up in Dadima's bedroom. I don't know why. Is it in some subconscious hope that I would find Dadima sitting there? Am I still in denial?

I just can't help thinking about whether or not I had done enough for her in her final few days. I don't know why I had gone for that conference. If I hadn't, I would have been with her in her final days. I am just so thankful to Allah that he granted me the opportunity to be there on the day she passed away and help her in her final journey. I just wished I had seen her one last time before she had passed away. Just to see her smile. Just to hear her say "Maro Hozefa aayo che" (My Hozefa has come). Just to have covered her in her blanket one more time. Just to have her ask me to pray a marsiya (hymn) one more time for her. Just to have said goodbye.

Eid-ul-fitr is coming in a few days. But nobody in the family is going to be in any mood to celebrate.

I am thankful that so many of my friends and even some of my cadets have shown me so much support over the past few days. Thanks guys.