Writing about life experiences can be difficult sometimes. I have no idea where to begin. At times I erase one whole paragraph just because I don't feel like it. At other times, words come pouring out like rain in December. It's a writing mystery, I guess.
What I've been trying to share is my life experience, a special one from ten years ago.Exactly ten years ago. It was my hajj journey.
In 1998, just before the infamous riot, my dad got a hard blow of stroke in his office. I had no appointment with him that day. I remembered whispering to his ear, 'Daddy, Daff's here' when he was lying on the carpet. By his vomitting, I knew it was a stroke. I needed to make the decision and with his office staff, we're off to the hospital.
After staying at the hospital for 40 days, Dad finally went home in April. A few weeks afterwards, the riot happened. Living in an area where the minority live, it was hard to think that everything was going to be alright.There was this moment during the days of the riot where everybody in the house were together in a room, each of us was holding sharp objects just in case. We're grateful that nothing eventually happened.
With family savings more than enough and Dad felt thankful for the life that once again was given to him, he decided to take all of us on a hajj trip.
My sis and my bro didn't want to participate.I kinda forget the reason why. Actually, no one had asked me whether I'd want to go along or not. If Mom went there, like it or not, I had to because she'd be needing my assistance there.
So there. The three of us went on our hajj trip.
What I've been trying to share is my life experience, a special one from ten years ago.Exactly ten years ago. It was my hajj journey.
In 1998, just before the infamous riot, my dad got a hard blow of stroke in his office. I had no appointment with him that day. I remembered whispering to his ear, 'Daddy, Daff's here' when he was lying on the carpet. By his vomitting, I knew it was a stroke. I needed to make the decision and with his office staff, we're off to the hospital.
After staying at the hospital for 40 days, Dad finally went home in April. A few weeks afterwards, the riot happened. Living in an area where the minority live, it was hard to think that everything was going to be alright.There was this moment during the days of the riot where everybody in the house were together in a room, each of us was holding sharp objects just in case. We're grateful that nothing eventually happened.
With family savings more than enough and Dad felt thankful for the life that once again was given to him, he decided to take all of us on a hajj trip.
My sis and my bro didn't want to participate.I kinda forget the reason why. Actually, no one had asked me whether I'd want to go along or not. If Mom went there, like it or not, I had to because she'd be needing my assistance there.
So there. The three of us went on our hajj trip.
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