What Do Women Want (Part 1)

Her Own Identity, Her Own Money, Her Own Space
Although it’s been more than 11 years since my sister died, I often thought of her and wondered why she left the stable and responsible Heinz and finally ended with the immature and insecure Geog. Heinz was 13 years older than her, the former Commercial MD for the Bonn-Cologne Airport, the corporate man about town, always dapper in his suit and tie, provided her with financial security, social status and emotional stability. And what can I say about Geog? Three years younger, not as impeccably dressed, a science researcher (“that dentist without a practice”, according to Heinz), obsessive compulsive, socially inept, perpetually broke, and still lost and searching now at 49.
Yat met Heinz when she was only 23. She was a stewardess for a chartered helicopter service, so the mature blonde and blue-eyed expat manager was a definite ‘catch’ and a passport to a more exciting world. After two years of courting, they married and left for Bonn. There she led a life of a suburban ‘haus frau’ (housewife), cooking, cleaning, sewing and waiting for Heinz to come home from work. Heinz didn't want children, so they just have his family and his friends for company.
But it was only five years later, when I was in Boston that I kept getting late night and early morning phone calls from her, crying her heart out about how cold Heinz was and how routine and meaningless her life was. She had decided to work as a local staff at one of the embassies and Heinz was not pleased with that. But she was adamant to be financially independent and was contemplating a separation. I could only listen, sometimes falling asleep with the phone in my hand.
The next thing she told me she had moved into her own apartment and had filed for a divorce. After a few months or years of enjoying her freedom with new found friends, she met a rich and dashing Romanian but he was married. They had a brief wonderful time together but she had to pick up the pieces of her broken heart when it ended. But that was not the only thing she picked up, she found ‘a spoilt little boy’ named Geog, who would be her pleasure and pain up to her death bed. He would cling to her but wouldn’t marry her because she was older than him (only three years, for Heaven’s sake; and I’ve met a 25 year old hunk who invited me to his home town to meet his parents). He would insist on paying only his share of the bills and doing just his share of the chores even she was lying on her back after traction. He would have the gall to instruct me on how to care for her at the ‘kranken haus’ (hospital) while Heinz was the one paying for her health insurance. And, of course, he was the one who bawled his heart out on his sleeve when she breathed her last.
He did visit her grave at Bukit Kiara (we brought her body back to be buried here) and put a dozen red roses; so did Heinz. On his second visit, almost 10 years after her death, he hinted at a replacement and invited me to go to Bangkok with him. To be fair, he has improved but I would not feel comfortable with my sisters' or friends' ex-partners.
Choos

THE EGO
Like I said I'm in a sociable mood, so just returned from my ladies' zikir group; the topic of discussion was The EGO. I learned that just 1 hour of contemplation a day about Allah the Creator and the reason of our creation on earth is worth 70 years of perfect worship. The purpose of seclusion is to seek heavenly as well as worldly knowledge, which is updated every single second, and can only be acquired by the soul and the mind working in concert.
So, for each and every day, I should allocate at least five minutes to contemplate on what I've done for Allah that day, repent for every negative thought and deed and attempt to correct them.
Salam