I have a brother in heaven.
He died inside my mother’s womb due to some pregnancy complication this month, 29 years ago. Just a few days before he was scheduled to be born.
Whenever mum tells her children about our abang long, we cannot help but notice the sad emotion that encompasses her. My mother is a strong woman and she accepted that it was God’s will obediently. But I know deep inside that if there was anything she could do to save him, she would have, even at the price of her own life.
I went through my life being the eldest son, carrying the responsibilities and hope of my parents. But even then, my family still called me angah, in rememberance of my along; eventhough he was never born. I try to be a good example to my smaller siblings, though I stutter and stumble a lot along the way. Somehow, I felt as if I am not meant to be the eldest. And I cannot help but wonder, how would my life be if I had an elder brother? I imagined him being somebody I can turn to. Someone I can ask for advice. Someone who can guide me when my life’s choices goes astray.
My sister once dreamt of him.
“Muka dan bentuk badan along memang sama macam angah”, my sister said. “Cuma dia rendah dan berisi sikit.”
Maybe it’s just a dream. But I wonder.
And whenever I think about him I am neither worried nor sad , because I know he is happy up there.