To my dearest and only;

To the love of my life;

the mother of my children;
the rhythm of my battle drum;
the courage that keeps me going;

I know you've been wounded - and you know you I’ve been feeling incomplete. We don't owe
anyone an explanation for why we’ve hurt each other, or how, or when or even how long.

We don't owe anyone anything other than our children the promise of Presence;
The promise we will always be their lullaby to sleep, and be the first sound they hear when they
awaken.

Like whispers of wind through a fallen tree,

The holes we’ve left in our hearts don't make them broken, they make them an orchestra of
nature; with gusts of air whistling through our splintered hearts
— it composes a ballad.
Our presence, no matter how fractured - is a melody so soothing, our little ones will always feel
love. We are their song. They are our harmony.

Life is weird right now, huh?

We don’t mean it to be. It just is. We work to get paid to pay everyone else and at the start of
this it always seems like we make it through each month with just enough.

But what if “ just enough” is enough. And what if our “just enough” ends up being th catalyst for
our thrive and salvation?

I think us four? No matter the condition — just enough.

There are two very little people who are the bosses while we try so hard to maintain control.
We’re pulled in so many directions that are often times opposite of each other.
So we fight. We fight about parenting decisions and whose turn it is to change a dirty diaper. Or
bring Gib to school or the abuse of my beloved iPad. We fight about money and how many times
we chose to Grab. We fight about bedcovers and laundry and toilet cleaning. We fight about
stupid things that we eventually forget what we’re fighting about and start fighting for the sake
of fighting cause it’s the new normal.
And it’s exhausting. So much is demanded of us. Schedules, household, obligations, politics, the
hustle and of course endless cups of “this” and their spills on the all their Pah’s shit. 6am alarms
that are hungry babies and hungry papas. Stressed out Mama’s who can’t even fart without
worrying some idiot from this refugee camp might snitch. And then finally, FINALLY — sitting
down for the first time with you l, and the kids are asleep —- just for us to start a conversation
that ultimately leads to a dogfight.

We sit in silence a lot. Not because we don’t have anything to talk about, but simply because
we’re tired of talking. And our space we hold and the love in our fractured hearts are strong
enough to JUST get us by for another crappy night sleep. Sometimes I realize there are
important things I haven’t told you because we just haven’t talked about them. Or I’m just too
scared to open that door. I wish for that closeness we had when all we had to talk about was
each other and our time was consumed with each other. Right now, sleep is better than sex and
making mood boards on Pinterest is more relaxing than a conversation.

This is not to say I am unhappy. This is the life I’ve always dreamed of. I love nothing more than
you and our children. Exhaustion from your beautiful lives is better than anything I can think of.

But my heart longs for you more than anyone else.

And I know it’s so hard right now. But I’m hanging on. Because I’m going to need you.
I’m going to need you to tell me everything is going to be ok when I cry on their first day of at the
new house. I’m going to need you to hold me when the phone call of bad news comes in. I’m
going to need you to drive after we drop off our kids at their college dorm room and to talk me
down from trying to go rescue my baby Ru from the bad decisions she will make there.

I’m going to need you to hold my hand while we sit together on stage at their akads. And I’m
going to need you to dance with me at the reception dinner party.

And I’m going to need you to hold me that night while I recount all the memories of their little
lives and cry about how they aren’t mine anymore.

I’m going to need you when the wallets and the schedules get a little bit looser. When there’s no
one yelling for “MAMAPAPAMAA” or crying about non-existent booboos.

I’m going to need you to buy me a porch swing and I’m going to need you to sit beside me and
hold my hand and tell me how grateful you are for this life we built together.

And in the meantime of all this needing you, know this:

I want you, too.

I want you to be there with me every step of the way.So if this means we sit in awkward silence
while we wait for this phase of life to be over, that’s fine. I’ll just sit close to you so that you know
I’m here and I’m not going anywhere. I might even hold your hand. The one that is not secretly
emailing work right now, of course. Hehe. We will laugh about that one day too. I’m sure of it.

Haslina, my compass to my lost lost soul;

I love you, and I’ll continue to love you through all of it.

Silence is fine, as long as I’m with you.

Your bear.
Harith Hisham Hashim

14th January 2024

10:40PM