Assalammualaikum
Hari berganti hari.. masa terus berlalu dengan pantas tanpa tunggu kita.. umur pon tiap hari makin bertambah.. org kata umur makin pjg.. ikutkn sbenarnya masa utk kita menjadi semakin pendek..
Itu saya.. anak-anak? semakin hari semakin membesar..
pejam celik.. rasanye baru je dlu mabuk kepayang n mual-mual.. sekarang, dh pon boleh di ajak bercakap dan bergaduh.. kadang-kadang cakap kita pulak dia betulkan... Tahun ni bulan Oktober InsyaAllah genap umur anak teruna sulung saya 3 Tahun.. masih teringat2 lagi sakitnya melahirkan kamu sayang... hampir 11 jam ibu bertarung nyawa.. Detik kelahiran Abg Iman
Moga kamu menjadi anak yg soleh.. akan jaga ibu dan adik kamu ye sayang.. dan semoga ibu juga mampu dan akan cuba berikan kasih sayang kepada Abang Iman.. Kamu adalah ank yg baik.. bijak.. byk bercakap dan kadang2 ibu rasa mcm salah perkiraan umur hehehe.. sbb kdg2 kamu macam ada kuasa ajaib bila berckp dan berfikir.. haissshh tu yg buat ibu selalu terfikir dan bersyukur kamu adalah ANUGERAH yg tidak ternilai dari Allah sayang...
Kamu adalah teman ibu dikala ibu sunyi 1 tika dlu, kamu yg buat ibu tersenyum di saat air mata ini mengalir dan kamu adalah teman setia ibu sebelum kelahiran adik Taqwa.. Tidur malam kita x kan lena tanpa salah sorg antara kita.. Ibu sayang Iman.. dan Adik Taqwa jugak.. kamu berdua adalah sumber kekuatan ibu..
moga kalian jd ank yg baik.. dan doa ibu selalu jika ibu takde nanti.. doakanlah ibu ye..
To My Grown-Up Son
by Alice E. Chase
My hands were busy through the day,
I didn't have much time to play
The little games you asked me to,
I didn't have much time for you.
I'd wash your clothes; I'd sew and cook,
But when you'd bring your picture book
And ask me, please, to share your fun,
I'd say, "A little later, son."
I'd tuck you in all safe at night,
And hear your prayers, turn out the light,
Then tiptoe softly to the door,
I wish I'd stayed a minute more.
For life is short, and years rush past,
A little boy grows up so fast,
No longer is he at your side,
His precious secrets to confide.
The picture books are put away,
There are no children's games to play,
No goodnight kiss, no prayers to hear,
That all belongs to yesteryear.
My hands once busy, now lie still,
The days are long and hard to fill,
I wish I might go back and do,
The little things you asked me to.
I didn't have much time to play
The little games you asked me to,
I didn't have much time for you.
I'd wash your clothes; I'd sew and cook,
But when you'd bring your picture book
And ask me, please, to share your fun,
I'd say, "A little later, son."
I'd tuck you in all safe at night,
And hear your prayers, turn out the light,
Then tiptoe softly to the door,
I wish I'd stayed a minute more.
For life is short, and years rush past,
A little boy grows up so fast,
No longer is he at your side,
His precious secrets to confide.
The picture books are put away,
There are no children's games to play,
No goodnight kiss, no prayers to hear,
That all belongs to yesteryear.
My hands once busy, now lie still,
The days are long and hard to fill,
I wish I might go back and do,
The little things you asked me to.
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