My Other Half

"So kiss me and smile for me

Tell me that you'll wait for me

Hold me like you'll never let me go

Cause I'm leavin' on a jet plane

Don't know when I'll be back again

Oh babe, I hate to go"

 - John Denver's "I am Leaving on A Jet Plane"

My husband Mohammad left this afternoon for Mecca, Saudi Arabia without me and the children. Two days ago, when he confirmed his flight back,  that familiar feeling, a sudden depression hit the two of us. Whilst I can't imagine life with the children without him for a week (actually I can, been there, done that but can never get used to the idea being far away from each other), he too can't imagine being without me and the three boys.

So with a heavy heart, he kissed the boys and waved goodbye. As he walked away, not turning his head once because he says  it is more painful to see the three boys crying telling him to come back soon.

He has to leave because he has to renew his permanent resident permit. Of Syrian origin, my husband was born and raised in Mecca and knows nothing much about Syria. So if he doesn't go back now he might not have a place to return to...Syria being out of the question at the moment and living in Malaysia, only on a yearly visa.

He promised it will only be for a week, but knowing him a week translates into a month or two. You see when he is with us in Malaysia, he loves Malaysia he doesn't want to leave but when he goes back to his family;that is, his father and siblings (his unmarried sister, his two brothers and their family are also living in the same house...as per typical of an Arab family), he doesn't want to leave them either.

We have lived for a whole year apart. Because of nationality issue I had to come back to Malaysia to give birth to my third child. Since my husband doesn't have work in Malaysia, I returned with my two older boys. Imagine, my eldest, 8 year old Tofe (then five) asked me "Mama, if you have to go to the hospital, who is going to drive you...Baba is not around and I can't drive..(his voice breaking, fighting back tears).

I am grateful that my husband is a devoted father and is too attached to the children, and they too, to him.Looking at them adoring their father, I 'll admit there's a slight hint of jealousy. I am a full time mum and he's hardly home, so when he's around it's like I don't exist. Mohammad is a very hands on father.When I  gave birth to Tofe, I knew next to nothing about babies, the maternal instinct had not kicked in. I didn't want to see,carry or feed him. But Mohammad had him in his arms from the moment he was born.He did the Azan and Iqama (for a new born baby in a Muslim family), bathe, clothe, milked and burped Tofe.For two whole weeks. And anytime I am occupied, he would willingly step in and care for his children.

I am grateful for a loving husband who accepts me and my flaws.  He knows when to duck or avoid irritating me when PMS is around the corner. He gives me ideas on what to write or what to focus on. Even when we were living in Saudi Arabia, he would encouraged me to write about my life in Mecca, a Malay living in a household of Arabs. Now when he sees me writing, he listens to me as I read out loud what ever I have written and gives me immediate feedback.

Mohammad is also a doting son. He tries to please his father as much as possible. When in Mecca, he would dutifully wake up an hour earlier to drive his father to the mosque, even if he barely gets two hours of sleep. And after Subuh prayers, it is another hour of breakfast  with his dad.  Every prayer time, he would accompany his father if he happens to be around.He would put everything on hold for the man who also gave in to his every whim when he was growing up. In fact, this is how he is with his three boys.

Mohammad is not without his faults but his good characters outshines them. He reminds me,  that how well you treat your parents, that is how well your children will be to you when they are older. Also he says to always be generous with others, be generous with your love and  be generous with your life.  Indeed, I am grateful!