IT MUST HAVE BEEN LOVE...

I am feeling rather melancholic today. The sky is overcast, they bury Michael Jackson (one of the greatest entertainers that had ever lived) today and I had just had an argument with my husband. It's not exactly the happiest of days. And I am wondering, what exactly is this thing they call love? What is this madness that makes men and women want to pledge their live to each other, to be together till death to us part. And why is it that some of us don't make it and yet some strike gold and stay together...forever...

My Mak Long passed away nearly a decade ago, and her husband followed suit about two years later. They were a simple malay couple, he didn't shower her with roses every other day and some may have doubted their love for each other. Maybe they just stayed together out of necessity, maybe because they were already advanced in years and they had no one else to turn to. Did anyone ever thought that it could have been just plain, pure, unconditional love?

What could make make a man, a healthy, fine looking man, still in his prime, dedicate his life to taking care of his wife who was diabetic and had lost a leg due to it, suffered a stroke and lost the control of one side of her body and was wheelchair bound. He cleaned her, fed her, generally took care of her... for years. And when she went away, you can see the life and happiness slowly drain out of him.

He smiled but it never reached his eyes. Then he went away, a mere shadow, both physically and emotionally, of the man I used to know. I believe it wasn't so much the problem with his lungs that took him... it was his broken heart. Slowly but surely, he started dying the day he buried his wife. One day my cousin, her only daughter, showed me a photo of my Mak Long, it was already brown with age and must have been handled quite a bit. Behind the photo were words which went something like this "Isteri ku yang tercinta, kembali ke rahmatullah pada ...". It was my Mak Long's photo which my Pak Long kept with him until the day he went away. What do you think he felt for my Mak Long? It must, must, must have been love...

And my parents? Let's not go there. I am not able to write about them without crying. I wonder what will happen to either one if the other is no longer around for such is their bond that one cannot survive without the other. So it must be love...or something greater than that.

And me...well, I have only been married for 3 plus years, still trying to get "the groove" of being a married woman, still getting into arguments...still...still...still...still learning what "love" is all about and still making blunders and mistakes. But such is life...