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“Glory! Are you still cleaning up your room? You better do. Or else… “ mum yelled.

“Yes, yes I am. I learnt my lesson mum, I regret postponing my work.” I sighed. Knowing that mum would threaten me with her nagging all the time. I don’t blame her though. She was right. Mothers are always, ALWAYS right.

Instead of doing my chore, I resumed scavenging the box. I found her hair brush. She has that long and healthy dark shiny hair. Just like in the commercials of a shampoo brand. She used to tie her hair into braids and sometimes she just tied it simply into a ponytail. She brushes her hair constantly to untangle her knots every night.

Not long after she studied in UIAM, God the Almighty wanted to test her. She got sick with high fever up to 41 degree Celsius. The doctors suspected her of dengue. She was admitted to the hospital during the holy month of Ramadhan and only spent one month in UIAM. The first one week at the hospital, the doctor then suspected something else. It wasn’t dengue but a bacterial infection somewhere in her lungs and heart. The housemen and the nurses took good care of her. Mum was always there by her side. Never left her, not even a day she had the thought of leaving her alone in the hospital. Injections and blood testing turned to an everyday routine. Imagine her pain in every injection, in every needle that went into under her skin. She couldn’t fast, not even a day she was allowed to.

She decided to cut her hair off. Now, her hair is at its shortest hairstyle that she had ever cut. That was easier for her to manage herself. Oh how I missed her long hair now.


All praise to the Gracious, she was discharged from the hospital 2 and a half months after her admittance. She was weak, unable to walk and talk properly. She was considered unconscious to me. Day by day, strength by strength, will by will, she managed to get better in condition. Mum supported her all the way through. I was very impressed of Triumph. She never forgets who she should be rotting onto. She prays every day, reads the holy Quran every night, and listens to religious talk all the time. She always supports me even though she is the one who is in need. Her friends kept on visiting her and motivate her.

I remembered her words she said to me, “Never give up. Every grey cloud has its silver lining. The good comes after the bad. So do not worry if anything doesn’t go to the way you planned. That is how what life should be. Unexpected.” She also told me to obey mum and dad. And never forget God and religion.

She delayed her studies for one year. She still doesn’t have the strength to go out at public. We went out a couole of times, but she would be exausted at the end of the day even though it was just an outing for a lunch. She used to hang out with her friends once in a while. But that is hard for her to do that at the meantime. Oh how I missed seeing her with her friends.


“Glory! Come and help Triumph - She’s having a high fever again.”

“Mum! Triumph threw up again.”

Those were the sentence that was frequently used after she was admitted to the ward. Maybe it was the medicines’ aftermath. She did took a lot of medicine at the hospital. Her health went for its ups and downs. It became a regular task for each of us to take care of her. I’d be a liar if I said I never sighed, not even a bit. I sighed a lot. Well, I’m not a person who is as patient as my mum. I was envious with her, just laying around the bed all day, not doing chores, to be taken care of and lots more. But I realised, she didn’t want this to happen to her and it was boring to just lay in bed all day. She was ill and in pain. I should be grateful for my health.

For a week, Triumph was energetic. She wanted to follow dad to work. So she did. Cheerful as always, just like she used to be. She did nothing much. Just sitting in dad’s office, doodling. It was funny how she was so loving and caring for the whole week. She even asked me for a hug. She could even jumped and tip toed. We were happy to see her progress.


I started to cry.

“what’s wrong, Glory? Did the dust and dirt in your room got into your eyes?” Mum interrupted me crying. I did not realised she walked into my room. Now, she caught me crying. Oh, how embarrassing. She saw the box that I hold in my hands. She comforted me. That made me cry even harder. We hugged each other.

“Honey, we all miss her. I do. It is okay to cry when you miss her. But you should never question her death. People come and go. It was her time. We, the ones who are still up and alive should move on and never stop praying for her.”

I nodded.

Triumph died on the exact week when she was healthy and energetic. It was also the day when dad was out for an outstation in Indonesia. It was so sudden. The doctor said she had a brain cancer at stage 4. She was one of the unique ones who do not have any symptoms until at stage 4. It was a shock for all of us. Her heartbeat is unstable. Dad arrived at the hospital at the nick of time. She was just waiting for her time. The beep sound changed. It went for a long duration. The doctor nodded. He said his condolence to us. It was, heartbreaking.


“Now, wash up your face. Come and eat for lunch. Then, you have some serious cleaning to do, young woman.” She said while pointing out my messy room.

I knit my brows. I just went through an emotional morning, how could I continue working like an ant? Well, responsibility is responsibility. Mum smirked, she understood me.

“No need for a long-face. I’ll help you with it”

That is what we all need. Support.