Its been more than two weeks since Nyai's departure.
I remember wanting to write about what happened during Nyai's funeral.
But I think I shall hold my horses for now.

I am not here to embarass any party but I will definitely lash out if arwah Nyai's son is out over and over again to speak ill of Nyai.
The reason why I am holding back now is also because a lot of my mom's other siblings (from different mothers) have heard our side of the story.
It's like running a political party.
Now the majority winning is on our end, only because we had facts, figures and data to prove that the arwah's son is out to belittle and humiliate Nyai.

Nyai is still my daily topic despite I moved on better than the week she passed away.
I smiled a bit more. I laughed a bit more.
But nothing will take Nyai off my mind.
People around me probably see it through my face and kept telling me to constantly read Fateha for her. I can only be grateful for these reminders.

I still miss her.
She is in my mind everyday, most of the time when I am at home.
There are still many things belonging to her which is still intact at home.
Her clothes, her bed & pillows (one of which we haven't wash because of the smell of her sweat), her medication, her supplements, her baby shampoo and body wash, her cabinets and boxes, her medical letters.

You name it.

I do not feel her at home but I have too many fond memories of her at home.
I remember telling Lil' Sis 2 months before Nyai passed away this:
"I am going to miss the baby powder smell when Nyai is no more around."

I will always laugh when Lil' Sis does her night shift to change Nyai's diapers and me coming out from the toilet smelling the baby powder even from upstairs.

Lovely memories will always be fond.
It is definitely not bittersweet. I would have love for her to lead a better lifestyle but I'd rather think God know the best for her.

I am glad that though life is probably more empty now, there is always something keeping me occupied.

Finally, the ladies went out for drinks, dinner and of course shopping.
Suddenly, the wallet lepaskan geram and made a spree.
My fault.

But it did feel therapeutic for an hour or so & that I will admit.
I watched Confessions of a Shopperholic and as much as I want to cut my credit cards, I think I came to a point that I cannot bear going out with cash, my NETS & at least my Citibank card.

As long as I have financial control, I am happy enough & shopping will still be therapeutic.






Then, as much as my mother's siblings has shown us much support during Nyai's 7-day tahlil, we went down to the family soccer that weekend to watch the family match against PUB.
I made myself the official camerawoman and was happily and orgasmicly snapping away with a Nikon.

It didn't matter if it was a Nikon D40.
I felt more ease with the Nikon.
I made Ein my official camerawoman for the Olyumpus 750 SW.



Suddenly, waking up in the morning was worth it looking at the smiles on my families' faces.
Those who flaunted their indifferences were simply made invisible by me.




























Want to see the whole bunch of us?
Note: This is probably 1/3 of the bunch.



My favourite picture?



This weekend will be a short getaway to KL.
Another shopping trip for me and mommy while an F1 trip for daddy & Lil' Sis.

I hope my diet will not go down the drain with Cinnabon or Aunt Annie's or Gelato or Food Republic or The Loaf or bla bla bla.
I came out of London Weight Management last night, crying feeling brainwashed that I am so fugly (definitely not f***ing ugly but fat & ugly) and getting no support in weight loss.
I did not take up the slimming plan eventually.

In any case, dad told me this morning over breakfast before he sends me to work,"You were brought up to think like a man. Very analytical and little emotion."
He was finally trying to explain why I think women in my office are not making the right decisions over situations which are so clear.

"And I seriously thought I was meant to be born a boy!" I remarked.
Oh but then again, I added,"No wonder it is even so hard to understand me."

Though not full-pledged, I can only understand and wonder if women knew what they put men through.