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My sleep was interrupted at 0200hr. My eldest son has a headache. After attending to his needs, I found myself still awake at 0300hr and now my worry about unsolve issues at work has dominate my mind hence deprive me of any peaceful slumber. So I gave up of trying to sleep.

In my last post, I mentioned about this poem/passage I read in the book called 'September' that I want to share. So here it is:

Death is nothing at all. It does not count. I have only slipped away into the next room. Nothing has happened. Everything remains exactly as it was. I am I, and you are you, and the old life that we lived so fondly together is untouched, unchanged.
Whatever we were to each other, that we are still. Call me by the old familiar name. Speak of me in the easy way which you always used. Put no difference into your tone. Wear no forced air of solemnity or sorrow. Laugh as we always laughed at the little jokes that we enjoyed together.
Play, smile, think of me, pray for me.
Let my name be ever the household word that it always was. Let it be spoken without an effort, without the ghost of a shadow upon it. Life means all that it ever meant. It is the same as it ever was. There is absolute and unbroken continuity.
What is this death but a neglible accident? Why should I be out of mind because I am out of sight?
I am but waiting for you, for an interval, somewhere very near, just around the corner. All is well.
excerpt from September by Rosamunde Pilcher

I went to my late brother-in-law's 'kenduri tahlil'(extension of doa/prayers for the deceased, done in congregation) organized by my sis-in-law. This time around only the women were invited. After the session ended, my sis-in law shared her gratitude to all who were present especially to her parents, friends and neighbours and there were no dry eyes when she hugged her mother in tears of gratitude of still having her in her times of need.