Yesterday, mywife and I , visited my auntie at KPJ Hospital Kajang. She was not in the best of health; at 79 her body seemed to be giving up. It’s sad to see her in that condition just as heartbreaking to see my mother which is her sister whenever I visit her back in the kampung. But I am all thankful to have her in my life. She greeted me as she always greeted me whenever I stopped by the house. ” nordin…nordin moksu….”…with the same pitch and same intonation. It immediately brought me back 40 years ago when I was a kid frequenting her house which is next to our house. Her eyes glittered and the smiles drew me to hug her where I can almost feel her heartbeat. Her breathing was heavy and she uttered every word in difficulty. I felt guilty for making her uneasy but at the same time the excitement overwhelmed the atmosphere so we just let the moment seized us. She is my auntie and at the same time “a mother” to me and to my brothers and sisters. I remember her many lessons of life she told me every time I went over the house to run errands for my mom. Mostly about being a good boy and finish the homework so that I can pass the exam , have a good job and help mother. believe it or not it remains close to my heart and yesterday as I watched her speaking I imagined the same words came out is it was some 40 year ago. Alhamdulillah she still can recognise me and remember the things that I told her about my brothers and sisters. Mokcik, as I fondly call her, was a good seamstress and I always went over the house and watched her measured the ladies. She didn’t hussh me off but instead taught me where to put the measuring tape properly while taking the measurement. I even thought to be a tailor one day but you know boys should not stick around and watch people making dresses all day but instead to go and play “polis pencuri”. So my ambition was short lived. My finger stuck in the sewing machine once when the needle went through it only after I heard mokcik said ” Nordin jange maing mesen tu….” ( Nordin do not play with the machine….). I immediately ran home after withdrew the needle with a bleeding finger without no one realising what had happened. Phewwww!. She always welcomed me at the house even at the odd hours of the day. I knew it was inappropriate as mother always warned not to go as you pleased but mokcik’s warmth and interesting rambling drew me to her doorstep every time I had a chance. She told me stories and jokes and she laughed; the laughters still ring in my ears as I recall the jokes and try to understand it again. She has 11 children altogether which are my cousins and they inspired me a lot to do well in school and be successful in life. The life back then when we were growing up in a small town of Pasir Mas was difficult but somehow our parents managed to pull it off. They managed to put the food on the table and sent us to school . And let life to take its course…. alhamdulillah we all survived our hard but colorful childhood.