A Friend's Father's Death

June 7th, 2008. Friend Izmel sent me an email telling me about his father being diagnosed by cancer. By the time the truth dawned upon everyone in the family, the cancer had already spread to the fourth level. Naturally the sudden news came as a shock to me, but gradually I gathered my composure and wrote him a reply, which contained words of encouragement more or less. Living thousands of miles away, I figured that that was the only thing I could do. He asked me not to talk to anyone about it, something that I did not agree with but I adhered to out of respect for him. Izmel also gave me his current mobile number, and welcomed me to Ipoh to visit his father if I ever get back to Malaysia.

June 15, 2008. Another email from Izmel, updates on his ailing father. He had been hospitalized in Ipoh, waiting to undergo chemotherapy. I must confess that I did not know much about this treatment, but I did know from stories I gathered from books and people that it was not an easy treatment at all. Not intending to cause any uneasiness on his side, I decided to forgo that topic in my reply and reminded Izmel to remain patient, and help his father as much as he can. Izmel never forgot to ask how I was doing and if I did well in my studies.

August 13, 2008. We exchanged a few more emails between now and then, but this was the last time I heard from him. No thanks to my busy schedule, it was always him who made the effort to start with a new email after we were both quiet for some time, and all I did was wait for that and replied. This time around, he told me that his father’s condition was getting worse. He could not stop thinking about him, and at times the thought of leaving his studies behind to look after him came across his mind. I tried to imagine the difficulty he was facing but I could not. As usual, I offered him some words of advice and urged him to remain upbeat despite the challenge. One thing that I was not sure about though was whether I myself was feeling upbeat, having listened to the story first-hand from him. Before he ended his writing, he thanked me for my willingness to listen to his story.

At times I tried to think of any other ways to help, words through email did not seem to have the power to reach much. Giving him a ring occasionally may not be a bad idea at all I thought, and perhaps I could arrange for a real visit to Ipoh when I get back. However, rather than trying to get the ideas materialized, I kept delaying any action to the point that at times I totally forgot about them. When it is not our problem, it is easy to let loose of the grip and stay calm. Others are struggling with their own life but we keep our eyes closed, we choose not to be aware of the surroundings. To say we are at fault does not sound quite right since it is not our responsibility in the first place, but when we are dealing with feelings of people, being ignorant is certainly not an option. Too bad I realized that when it was too late.

September 14, 2008. This was last Saturday. I did my routine as usual right after waking up, which was checking emails and updates from friends. Someone passed around the terrible news. Izmel’s father had lost his battle with cancer and passed away on Friday.

This post is not in any way intended to look back at the life of Izmel’s father, or the relationship I had with Izmel. It is merely a personal reflection of things that could and should be done, and also a reminder for the future.

I have yet to talk to Izmel until now. This time, my excuse is maybe he needs some time to recover before he can start to talk to people. I hope that I will not delay my action any longer, and I hope Izmel is doing fine. I pray that your father’s soul will forever be blessed, and may Allah place him amongst the pious.