Nuaim, Nu'man and I were staying at my in-laws in Alor Star on my birthday. We were treated to a wonderful cheesecake from Secret Recipe, which was the first cheesecake I've had since 6 pm on 6th April 2004 (that probably helped Nu'man along his way to the big wide world outside my womb). The next day, we drove back to KL and reached Mak's house just after dinner, where another sinfully delicious chocolaty cake of the same company was waiting for us. Nuaim was too scared to blow out the candles on his own. He kept calling them 'bunga api', probably because they reminded him of the fireworks during the SUKMA opening ceremony.
We didn't have time to throw him a proper party, as it was a hectic 3-day weekend with all the travelling to, from and around Kelantan for a relative's wedding. There were cousins, nieces and nephews I hadn't met in ages, so much so that I had a terrible time recalling all their names. Hey, when you've got 45 cousins, some of whom have doubled their own offspring since the last time you saw them, what are the chances of being able to tell them all apart?
Anyway, the thing I really wanted to talk about was this: turning 30.
It's supposed to be a semi-major milestone, a precursor to life begins at 40 (when youth ends, I'd like to add). One can no longer blame the raging hormones of a twenty-something for any dodgy decisions or actions. I heard on Radio IKIM some time ago (and it's about the only thing I've ever heard on radio that really sticks to mind), that when we die and the Day of Reckoning is upon us, the only years that matter are the first 40 years of our lives. So whatever worthy cause or act should have already been over and done with before life even begins. That means I've got 10 years left to make up for and outweigh all the bad and inconsequential stuff I've done in the past. And since I'm no angel and definitely not a saint, not all of the remaining 10 years of youth is going to be well spent either.
So it's good to reflect on the past 30 years and figure out whether I've got what it takes to tip the scales towards the good side of average.
For the life (and afterlife) of me, though, everything I've ever achieved seem to be only for worldly ends. I consistently got good grades, earned a much coveted scholarship to study in the UK, and graduated with top class honours. Got a good stable job, got a house, a car, got married and have two kids.
Applause. Well done. Pat myself on the back.
But what really counts? Things I have, or how I treat what I have? Especially the family bit. I love them all really, but I do wish I treat them better. Be more polite, loving, affectionate, patient and caring. Learn to bite my tongue when my words could very well end up biting their hearts (which, unfortunately, they almost always do). To accept and give unconditionally. I'm an easy person to fall in love with, but terrible to live with.
So my birthday resolution is this: for the next 10 years - and beyond, I shall be the most wonderful wife, mother, daughter, sister and citizen of the world I can be.
It's a shame that just as I realise this, Hubby finally got his wish to join an overseas project. He's leaving tomorrow and will be away for 60 days at least. How now?
In the midst of the World Cup, where other women cry foul over being substituted with football as their partners' constant companion, I am joining the ranks of the Sudan project widows...
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On a lighter note, here's a picture of Muhammad Nu'man, at the age of 2 months.
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