memories ......

.... pressed between the pages of my mind.

- Sweet memories of rocking the spring cradle where you lay as a baby.
- The bicycle rides you would take each day, racing back and forth on the long tarmac driveway, shirtless  and smiling and with great speed with your head down and when you reached the end of the driveway you would stop and survey the road in front with your hands at your waist and just staring into space for long intervals before starting up, again riding up and down until the sun set and nanny would call you into the house and you would reluctantly come in.
- The time you set the room on fire.
- The day I resentfully walked you to school and left you at the gate.
- You memorising your spelling lessons at the veranda.
- Sitting on the kitchen floor in Leonard's house, studying for an exam. We were so proud of your results, you scored very well in the exams.
- I remember the painful events, but will not put it in words although I remember them and acknowledge that I  contributed to your pain and anguish. I ask for your forgiveness and  I am truly sorry for all the hurts I caused you dearest Irven, please forgive me. Even now thinking of those dark episodes bring a piercing pain in my heart, I am so sorry dearest Irven, forgive me please.
- The years pass and still no respite from your sad and lonely existence. Always you were wondering around on your own, no direction, no guidance and no father or mother by your side to comfort or guide and love or care for your well being.
Yours was life of loneliness, struggling with your own challenges with no family to rely on or for support.  Always misunderstood, but loved nonetheless.
- I see your smile and hear your laughter, remembering your obnoxious burps.  Your good naturedness. The whole world was your friend.  No matter their status in life, they were all your friends deserving of your friendship. You had  respect and genuine compassion and interest in everybody, strangers were greeted cordially and treated like a friend.
- I miss you dear Irven, I can hear echoes of you telling me not to cry:  "Don't cry Barber, aah yah"
- Another Ramadan, another year of breaking of fast and Siti and the girls still reserve a place for you at the dinner table and invite you to partake of the meals with them.
- Counting the days until I am in Kemaman, eagerly waiting for the day I am standing by your resting place.