Today

I didn't think I could still cry, but today I thought of my father on my drive to my daughter's class, and I cried.  I cried because I had hope that I wasn't totally a bad daughter.  I hugged him whenever I saw him.  I tried.  But my life has been a life of regrets this week.  I wish I spent more time with him. I wish I took him with me on more trips.  I wish I took more pics of him, more videos, captured more moments.  I wish I conversed with him.  I wish I lived on my knowledge that he wouldn't be with me for much longer.

I knew it was his last Ramadan with me. I knew he didn't have much longer with me.  I knew he was slowly dwindling away in front of me.  But I did not act on it.  What is wrong with me? What is wrong with humans?  When does knowledge become action?  When do we turn thoughts into behaviors?  It's a learning experience for me.  I'm trying to not just be regretful, but to churn it into something useful. 

He used to pray in the middle of the night when he was so tired.  Fast during the days of Ramadan when he was already malnourished and weeks from dying.  Read Qur'an after fajr when a few winks of sleep would've felt so good.  Go to the masjid for Fajr prayer when he was so dizzy he could hardly drive.  Make tayammum and pray when he was on his death bed and hardly cognizant of what he was saying or doing.  Allah yirhamuh.  That's his legacy to me.  To keep on driving when I want to quit, when I want to sleep, when I want to rest.  My time for sleep will come, but now is my time for action. 

Truly I hope that he has rested in his final sleep.  I miss him so much, and I wish and I wish and I wish, but I shouldn't.  I'm a believer, and I know that my Lord's call is the true call, and his decrees are an article of belief for me.  O Allah, let me grow closer to You in my museeba.  Let me pray for him and meet him again where he is happy to see me, and not embarrassed of my end.  Allahumma ighfir lahu warhamhu ya rabba3alameen.