It was a sad day for us last Saturday night as we were all at KLIA to send off my youngest brother to Germany. He will be pursuing his Degree in Mechanical Engineering and will be there for four years. Yes, he’s 20 years old but he’ll always be the baby of the family. Yes, he can be stubborn at times but he’s still a sweet kid. He doesn’t get into any major mischief and is always the homebody type (thanks to the influence of our parents!).
It was hard to see him leave as we are so used to seeing him around the house. F* didn’t shed a tear when we hugged goodbye. Maybe nak maintain macho :). I tried hard to control my tears. Didn’t want him to see how sad I was but of course the sadness was too much to bear. Tears were still streaming down my face.
At that point, I had a sudden flashback to the year 1987 when F* was close to a year old and I was in Standard Six. It was one particular evening when my maid was preparing to bake a banana cake. I was in her room at the time, busy looking out for newspaper clippings on Gary Lineker. For those who don’t know, Gary Lineker was an England footballer and I was soooo obsessed with him during those days. When all was ready and the cake was placed in the oven, my maid asked me to babysit my brother while she took a quick shower and reminded me to watch out for F* and don’t let him go anywhere near the oven. Of course I was half listening at the time, being so obsessed with Gary and all.
I remembered F* was in the room with me but somehow I never realised when he started to crawl to the kitchen. I guess I wasn’t really paying attention (still busy looking at the papers). After a few minutes, I heard my brother crying. I ignored it, thinking it wasn’t anything major. All of a sudden, I heard my maid yelling, “*Trueblue*!!!! Kenapa tak tengok F*???!!!”. I quickly ran to the kitchen and was shocked to see my baby brother’s hands were touching the oven. F* was crying like crazy. There were no words to explain my feelings at the time. It was a total negligence on my part. I felt absolutely guilty. My parents weren’t back from work yet so we had to ask our neighbour to take F* to the clinic. The doctor said since we managed to pull F* quite fast, the injury was still under control. Thank God.
When they brought F* back home and I saw his small hands wrapped in bandages, I just burst into tears. F* was smiling and laughing and acted as if nothing happened. He seemed clueless to what the fuss was all about. I was so scared waiting for my parents to come back home. I knew they were gonna kill me and a voice somewhere told me to just run away. Surprisingly, my parents weren’t so mad with me and to this day I wonder why. All I did was hide in my room, crying and praying to God “Ya Allah, tolonglah jangan bagi Daddy and Mummy marah”. After some time, I sneaked out from my room and bumped into Daddy. He just smiled and asked “Dah makan kek pisang?”. Weird…and there I was having panic attacks in my room.
Anyway, F* has a scar on his left hand from that unfortunate incident. It’s small but enough to leave a longlasting memory. Every time I see that scar, I can’t help but feel so angry at myself. I think I will forever hold this guilt. I know he doesn't even remember the incident but the scar would always remind him that it did happen and for that, I would never forgive myself for being so careless that day.
Like I said, it was tough to see him leave that Saturday night. He’s a big boy now and turning into a man but he’ll always be my baby brother. But yeah, it’s time to let him go. It’s time for him to learn new things in a different country and a different language. He needs to be exposed to a different culture and different environment. It's time to be independent. I wish him all the best in his studies and hope things will work out great for him.
Take care, bro. We miss you already. Please know and remember that we love you very much.
