Today was special. See, today, i went to visit my paternal grandparents, and great grandmother, along with a bunch of other family members i both know and don't, have met, and never will.

See, today, we went to the graveyard. Neh, it doesn't dound so nice eh? Graveyard. Somehow, saying kubur is much nicer.

Well, actually, we didn't manage to stop by my grandmother's, but my maternal grandmother says my dad mentioned wanting to go visit tomorrow. If he does, then i'll get to stop by afterall.

It's been a long time since i last went. I have thought it about them since then, but not so much i guess. Nye, i feel like a bad person. Well, first step to changing; admiting.

So, today, i had some real food for thought. Just being there humbled me greatly, and i was quiet throughout the whole visit. First we went to my late uncle's, now him i think about more often than i ever imagined i would. His memory is so alive, even to this day. His pictures still hang on the walls on my grandparents house, my younger cousins are constant reminders of him, and my aunty, somehow, his presence lingers at the back of your mind whenever you see her.

I don't know. I was thinking so much this morning. As we made our way to the graves of past family members, we saw the many different type of graves along the way. Some were extravagant, bordered with expensive-looking marble stone, and decorated with flowers and small plants.

These did not really catch my eye. Those that were overgrown and uncared for did. Somehow, i just felt a sudden wave of pity and sadness everytime i settled my gaze on them. There's one just like them next to my late uncle's. And the whole time i was reading Yasin and offering prayer and such, i kept thinking of it.

What's more pitiful, is if the deceased had family members to tend to their graves, but they choose not to. They prefer instead to forget.

Will that ever happen to me? To my very own parents? My uncles and aunts or my grandparents? Will people come and visit me when i'm no longer on this earth? Will they remember me?

Will i remember them, should they go?

These questions barely scratch the surface of what went through my head just then.

Overwhelmed by the powerful torrent that was my emotions and thoughts running amock, i made a silent promise to myself. That one day, i would make it a habit to visit the graves of those who have gone before me. I don't know if i will be able to make it even a monthly visit, but i promised i would try. I would try to remember, and not forget.

If in life, we value the presence of those who we love, i think, little things like showing you remember are even more important in death. For both parts really. We need constant reminders as to what awaits us at the end of this lifetime.

I need a constant reminder.

I realise my thought are all jumbled up and not organized in the very least, but hey, aren't they always that way?
Heh.
I'm feeling odd right now. Thinking about it all, i can only wonder . . . what it feels like. . .
" wa ana ma'akum insha Allah "

It repeated over and over in my head. Like an echo. Just like an echo.