Timeless Tales- Qur'anic Storytelling

A few weeks ago, as I prepared my two year old for bed, I decided to skip his truck book and switch it up with some quick storytelling.  As I lay him down and looked into his sleepy, glazed eyes, I opened up with a short re-telling of the story of the Elephant and Abraha.  My little one gazed at me with wide open eyes, enthralled, silent, and quietly settled to sleep as I closed the lights and door behind me.

The next morning, during our morning car ride to his sisters' school, Hasan surprised me with a request, "Mama, can you tell me the story of the Elephant?"  I honestly did not expect him to remember it, and what followed was a marathon request for this story, with me repeating it over and over and over.  All day long and for the next couple of days, that is all he wanted to hear or watch from me, his baba and his grandma. I had not expected at all that he would be so open to listening to a story, and that he would be able to internalize it.  But then I realized that he was ready for more stories from the Qur'an.

Since then, I've racked my brains for as much of the Qur'anic stories as I could that refer to animals; because at his age, I think that's what catches his attention.  He's currently loving the story of Prophet Yunus, heard the story of Sulaiman and the ant, and can tell me all the different kinds of animals that Prophet Nuh could have taken with him on his Great Ark.

With his oldest sisters, I used to make the stories into a graphic storytelling experience, drawing a crown to symbolize the Queen of Sheba, a castle, a hoopoe bird (definitely rudimentary drawing) and lots of ants marching along.  I retold the stories to them over and over until I reached a point where I thought they'd gotten sick of it, and that I couldn't retell it in any new light.

And then recently, my 6 year old daughter started asking me to tell her a story during our morning drive to school.  I figured it had been long enough since I'd spent time retelling Qur'anic stories with them, so I started up again on that tradition.  This time around, with my older children, I've found myself delving into the feelings of the Prophets while they lived their struggle with their people.  The pain in Prophet Nuh's heart when he had to give up on his son and watch him drown as a disbeliever; the overwhelming fear in Yunus's heart as he found himself in pitch black darkness, unable to see his own hand as he stretched it before him; the anger in Yunus's heart as he left his people for once again ignoring his message; the thankfulness and happiness that overflowed from Sulaiman's heart as he realized Allah's blessings on him allowing him to understand the language of the ant....

As my children go through different stages of their life, I realize that the Qur'anic tales are truly timeless, taking on a magical presence for each individual in each stage of their lives.  As the mother telling these stories, I have to look at them from a different light each time, trying to bring up a new detail that I might not have caught the first time around, trying to reflect on and understand a side of the story that I might have brushed over previously.  To me, they are truly timeless tales, and as I was reminded a few weeks ago, no toddler is too young to be introduced to them, and no child is too old to hear them again. 

This Time of Year- Spring Blooms

Something about this time of year, about Spring, inspires in me a deep gratitude to Allah SWT, a deep acknowledgement of how little we have to do to see the fruit of all the mercies He sends down to us. 
When I look at my wooden barrel today, I can only say, subhanaAllah.  One month ago, it was a brown container, with brown dirt, and a few dried, burnt looking, bare twigs.  Today, it's a container that is literally overflowing with long, green, luscious sage, oregano and thyme.  Did I do anything to bear that fruit?  No.  Not recently at least.  The last time I touched that container was three years ago, when I put the dirt in, and added small seedlings of sage, oregano and thyme plant.  I leave my herb garden outside, where it dies once the frost sets in, and miraculously bursts forth every spring since that first planting.  I haven't added any new fertilizers (other than a few coffee grounds here and there), I haven't weeded, cleaned or changed the soil.  But somewhere, deep under that brown dirt, are the seeds that bear fruit each year.

And so it is with this life.  It truly is the garden for our Hereafter, as taught by our Prophet saaws.  And the amazing thing is, we don't really have to put much effort into this life either, compared to the great na'eem that we will get in return in the Hereafter.  Allah SWT only wants us to invest in whatever little way we can do, just to take that first step forward, so He can come running to us with His rewards and blessings.  His blessings rain upon us long after we have moved away from Him and become engrossed with this dunya. 

Digging Deeper into the Prophet's Hadith on What Helps a Person After He Has Passed

I realize that i've only blogged about my father after his passing, and it's been over two years now, and although I insist on not writing about him so as not to seem obsessed, i find that his death continues to inspire in me deep reflections and memories.   May Allah have mercy on all those who have passed and make us ready for our time whenever it comes, esp if it is sooner, rather than later. 


Recently, more than two years after my father's passing, I reflected on the famous saying of the Prophet's (saaws) in which he gives us hints on what we can do to help our loved ones after they have returned to Allah.  In the hadith, Abu Hurayrah, rahimahullah, narrated that Allah's Messenger, sallallahu 'alayhi wa sallam, said, "When a human being dies, all of his deeds are terminated except for three types: an ongoing sadaqah, a knowledge (of Islam) from which others benefit, and a righteous child who makes du'a for him." [Muslim and others]

I thought of how easy this was, of how b/c he was an integral part of my every memory, I would easily remember him daily and make dua'a for him.

But then I realized that there was another side to this hadith that I was completely missing; a much deeper and more proactive side.  Righteous child.  Why in the world did I assume that I was a righteous child?  Was I really that perfect that I thought I would automoatically be accepted by Allah, and that my dua'as would be answered for my loved one?  Or was this hadith a call for me to work on myself, improve myself, struggle with my weaknesses, so that I could be in a state of constant struggle to reach piety?  Was this hadith more of  a call for self-improvement, in the face of, or despite, grief and sadness?

As a parent myself, I realize that if I should die in a year or more or less, my biggest worry without a doubt would be for my young children.  I worry about the logistics of who would take care of them, but I realize that if I pass, I have nothing to do with what happens after my death, and it is not my worry.  But the only wish that I could ever have for my young ones, is that Allah protects their faith, and that they grow up in the shade of His rememberance.  If I continue to nurture them and raise them, I will undoubtedly strengthen my bonds with them, and one day they will come searching for how they can continue to birr me, do well for me, after I have passed.  My sincerest hope is that at that point, they will realize that there is nothing better that they can do for me than to work on themselves, make themselves the best that they can be.  Then, and only then, will i rest in peace in my grave, and realize that there could be no better gift than to have my children making duaa for my salvation, and most importantly, struggling to make themselves the best people that I could leave behind. Only then, will I rest assuredly in my death, knowing that Allah and His Messenger, in their infinite wisdom, gave us pearls of wisdom that we can uncover when we dig a little more deeply.

Hugging My Kids

This morning I dropped off my daughter at her school with a hug and then another hug and kiss.  It was a sweet moment that isn’t always repeated in our mornings.  It might seem like a routine act in your day, but for me, it’s a new routine that I’ve slowly been struggling to build more and more into my day.
Two weeks ago I read an article on hugging your kids 12 times a day, and it dawned on me that when they’re babies, my kids are getting at least 10 hugs a day, but as they grow older, those hugs grow much, much fewer, and so far in between.  When I read that article, I realized weeks go by without a real hug from me to my child, and I decided I was going to challenge myself to hugging them daily, and seeing how many hugs I can build in.  I was going to wait till I’d built a solid routine, with at least 3 hugs a day, and then I was going to report to everyone with my new achievement.
But I didn't have time to do that.  Because today I heard the news coming out of Connecticut about what is now considered the second largest school massacre in American history.  Twenty elementary aged kids murdered after their parents had dropped them off at school on a routine day.

  That image of me dropping off my seven year old early this morning at her school, giving her that morning hug that, her absorbing that hug with a hunger that she seems to always have for my physical touch, flashed across my mind.

I had a good moment today, where I savored my hug, but it doesn't always happen that way. Some mornings my girls are having really bad days, where everything manages to take twice as much time as it should, and where I end up losing my temper numerously.  On those mornings, it's been a struggle to force myself to hug them with all the angry words that have been said.  And that hug comes out forced, sometimes feels fake, but today, all I can think is alhamdulillah it's coming out.  

What if I was having one of those bad mornings with my daughters, dropping them off angrily at school, either giving a quick forced hug, or no hug at all, only to hear news that I would never see them again?  What if I was one of those parents who lost their child today, would I be wishing for one last hug where I could prove to them how much I loved them?  What if I didn't have that chance anymore, would I live the rest of my life wishing I had dropped them off at school with a smile on my face and a meaningful last look  deep into their eyes?  

Ya Allah, give me the chance to love my children in all their moods and tantrums, to be thankful for their continued presence in my life, to appreciate  Your gift at every moment of our lives together.  Ya Allah, I leave them in Your trust, so help me raise them in the best way and protect them from the evils of all Your creation. 

Moving forward, I grieve for the parents and think of what I can do with my little ones.  Think that there's little more than leaving them in Allah's trust and showing them, through hugs and otherwise, how much I treasure their presence in my life. 

Dill Plant

I've been walking by my tiny container garden for the past few weeks not mentally registering the weedy, thin plant growing in the wrong container.  It looked like dill, but was not growing in the dill plant pot from last year, and so I ignored it. 
Today I finally gave in, stooped down and tore off a slender leaf to smell; and lo and behold, it was a dill plant! O, the joy!  I love my fresh herb garden, and especially my dill plant, which did not thrive last year.  To find it re-growing in the pot that housed my mosquito plant last year brings me great joy.  Somehow, some way, seeds fell out of the big herb pot, into this tiny side container, buried under the soil for a few dormant months, and sprouted me a fresh dill plant this season, for my edible enjoyment. 
O, the joy that we feel when we likewise plant random seeds of goodness here and there, never realizing that they have grown roots and flowered into a plant of good deeds.  The dua'a  of travel we taught a random student years ago when we were enjoying a roller coaster ride together, only to be remembered forever by her, and recounted to you ten years later.  The pot of spaghetti you cooked quickly for a new mother months ago, that sustained her during her hardest days at new motherhood.  The kind word you spoke, passingly, to a stranger, days ago, that helped him move through a moment of hardship and doubt, through a burning quest for personal understanding. 
It's moments like these, on the day of Judgment, that will come back to brighten our existence, and make us thankful for Allah's small mercies on us, for Him allowing us to throw around a good deed here and there, not realizing that it may truly have taken deep roots, flowered, and given sweet fruit and use to many around us. 
Now back to that container garden of mine; there really is nothing like a perennial herb garden, that gives and gives, year after year, without hardly any work on your behalf.  You do the initial act of planting the seed or seedling; you water it every once in a while, harvest its good leaves and flowers for flavor, and then wait for another spring to come around for that plant to come back up out of the dead ground with new growth, and plentiful use.  Do yourself a favor and plant a small garden today.  Sow your seeds of good deeds left and right, and realize that although you may never know that they took root and sprouted, they might be leaving behind a legacy that will come back out of the ashes and benefit a new generation of people after you.

Kid Cracks Me Up

Sumayya cracks me up sometimes. 
A couple of days ago, Anas and his brother in law were visiting.  Sumayya has started this new thing where she wears her scarf in front of men/schoolmates, etc.  So , she went upstairs to changer her clothes and a while later I see her strolling into the kitchen casually with her shirt, scarf and .... underwear.  nothing on her lower half but her underclothes.  Ummmmmm......
I freaked out and covered her up.  She has no concept of internal 3aybness.  So I looked at her and said, 'Sumayya, you have a scarf on , but no pants?'
She actually stopped and thought about that and said, 'Oh, yes.' 
Alhamdulillah that made some sense.

Well-Worn Family Treasure

I sat in my halaqa the other day, and had a blast from the past moment.  I thumbed through the book we were studying, and couldn't help but be blown away for a few minutes.  I was holding in my hand a well-worn family treasure, and I was the lucky one who owned it now, even though I don't think I deserve it. But I was blown away with Allah's mercy on me, that it now lay in my hands. 
This book that I read when I was a teenager, growing up.  This book that my sisters studied while they sat with my mom in self-imposed family time.  This book that my brother wrapped with a brown paper bag and wrote on in his beautiful Arabic writing, with a typo that still designs the cover.  That my sister graffitied with her name.  That my mom stamped with her side notes, written in her tiny, unclear handwriting.  That my father thumbed through endlessly, lovingly. 
And I sit here and remember the last time it was given to me.  I had moved out to my own place, and left behind a wealth of books in my parents' storage attic, too lazy to bring it down.  I went shopping in my father's bookcase, and he sat there and happily gave me book after book, so sure that he was fulfilling me and edging me on to reading more in Arabic.  He handed me this book, the book that I loved reading in the past, but had not read in a long while, the book that my mother studied religiously, that my siblings had marked with their own marks.  At that moment, my mom put her foot down, "No, I still read that book."  And I remember how happy I was when Baba slipped it into my hands and said, 'It's ok, Fatima will read it."
I cried that day when I remembered that memory. For over two years it sat on my shelf, not read or used.  How selfish of me.  But subhanaAllah, here I am, two years later, finally using it.  I love how Allah's plans for the future play out in our past, how we can't see the reason for something, only to be surprised by it slapping us in our faces many years later. 

Waking Up in the Mornin', Mornin

I was waking up Sumayya for school the other day, and couldn't help but remembering baba and itrahhaming 3leeh.  I had a flashback to how he woke us up with a loud smile, a boisterous nature and a happy, off to the right track beginning of the morning day smile.  He'd laugh when we grumbled, covered our faces with our blankets or screamed, 'i'm getting up' for the hundredth time.  And he'd come back and wake us up again a couple more times, still happy and joking.
Flashback to the present, and here i am with my daughter, growl on my face, thinking of how much I'd rather be in bed, threatening her that if she wakes her sister or brother with her loud noise, i'll be so mad at her.  Wow! What a difference!  Your legacy still lives on Baba, and I ask Allah to reward you with us for every kick we gave and every smile/laugh you answered us with.  I try to wake Sumayya up with no growls now, no scowls, no angry countenance.  I haven't yet made it to the stage of being happy and smiley when I'm waking her up, but maybe one day soon I'll get there. 

Parenting Lessons from the Qur'an- Experience

My 9 month old son, Hasan, has reached the stage of the 'hot cup' tradition in our household.  Once they become interested in reaching out and grabbing things, I have held each of my three children's hands and lightly let them touch my hot mug of tea.  At the same time, I reinforce the concept of its being hot with the Arabic word for 'hot' and a sound that I make to indicate it is hot.  It's my way of teaching my child, through hands on experience, a concept that I hope will protect them in the future.

I own a mus-haf (Qur'an) that includes meanings of Qur'anic words and random hadiths that relate to the verses I am reading.  One of the hadiths that I came across a while ago and thought was so striking is one that relates a Qur'anic concept which not only condones a human's need for hands on experience but allows and more importantly reinforces that human need.  There are at least three instances in the Qur'an that reinforce this concept and show the never ending mercy of Allah with us in this regard.  It sets a great example for us as parents, when our gut reaction might be to say, "Because I told you so" when a child questions us on something.  It shows us that it is an inherently human need to experience things with our own sight and physical touch, as opposed to learning about it through stories and lectures only.  And more importantly, it shows us the infinite mercy and compassion of Allah SWT to treat us with such generosity when we question basic issues of faith. 

In Surat al Baqara, we see the story of Prophet Ibrahim (pbuh), who asked Allah SWT to show him how he brings the dead back to life.  Allah SWT questions him, 'Don't you believe?'  Ibrahim replies, 'Yes, but just so that my heart is comforted.' And instead of condemning Ibrahim for a possible weakness, Allah SWT shows him physically how He is able to bring 4 birds back to life after Ibrahim has slaughtered them.  O the infinite Kindness of Allah!

In another great example of hands-on experience, Musa (as) asks Allah SWT if he can see  Him.  Allah answers him that his physical senses will not be able to behold Allah's light, but He then goes on to show him this reality.  When Allah reveals Himself to the mountain, it completely crumbles to dust, and Musa falls unconscience from the magnitude of the situation.  He realizes what a great thing he has asked of Allah SWT and returns to Allah in forgiveness. 
Again, these examples blow me away, not so much in that Allah SWT is showing us the human need for hands on experience, but more importantly, because He, in His Greatness, wants to comfort His messenegers hearts and faith, and does not condemn them for seeking a higher level of certainty (yaqeen). He doesn't condemn them for wanting to see with their own eyes what they hear with their ears and might even know with their hearts.  And I for one, know that as a parent, this is one aspect that I need to work on with my children, and even with my spouse.  I don't need to get angry and defensive when my child doesn't take my explanation for why she can't do something for granted.  I need to spend more time explaining situations to her, more time allowing her to actually go outside and get cold without her coat on, more time to realize that if she

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I recently came upon a hadith that made me think about how the Qur'an addresses parenting issues in the most minute ways.  This hadith dealt with the story of Musa (pbuh) in Surat al A'raf (verse 150) where Musa came back to his people and found them worshiping the golden calf.  The Prophet (pbuh) said,  "May Allah have mercy on Musa, (for) truly the one who experiences (with his own senses), is not like the one who (merely) hears (about an experience).  His Lord informed him that his people had gone astray after him, but he did not throw down his books.  Once he saw his people, and experienced (their sin) he threw down the books," Narrated by Ibn Abi Hatim. According to this hadith, Prophet Musa did not strongly react when he heard of his people's disobedience, because even though his mind knew, his heart did not feel it.  Once he saw them in person disobeying Allah SWT, he angrily acted out, threw down his scrolls and proceeded to grab his brother, Haroon's, head and to pull him.  As the hadith explains, nothing like some first hand  experience to make you a believer. 

Right before this story is narrated to us in Surat Al 'Araf, Allah SWT gives us another powerful example of the same lesson, a lesson on the inherent need of humans for personal, hands on experience.  In verse 143 of the same Surah, we see Musa (pbuh) conversing with Allah SWT and asking him for the favor of seeing Him in His Majesty.  Instead of rebuking Musa for this question, instead of humiliating him for making such a forward request, instead of merely dismissing him, Allah SWT tells Musa that his physical senses will not be able to behold Allah's light and then, He proceeds to allow Musa to experience this first hand.  When Allah reveals Himself to the mountain, it crumbles to dust immediately, and Musa immediately loses consciousness.  This story amazes me on so many different levels, most importantly in Allah Subhanahu wa ta'ala's patience with His servant's human need for personal experience, for hands on learning.  As a parent, I can only walk away with great lessons on patience and forbearance from these examples.

In another classic example of this human need for first hand/hands on learning experiences, we see the story of Prophet Ibrahim (pbuh) in Surat Al Baqara when he asks Allah SWT to show him how he brings the dead back to life.   Allah SWT questions him, 'Don't you believe?'  Ibrahim replies, 'Yes, but just so that my heart is comforted.' Instead of condemning Ibrahim for a possible weakness, instead of rebuking him, instead of dismissing him, Allah SWT shows him physically how He is able to bring 4 birds back to life after Ibrahim has slaughtered them. 

As a wife and mother, I need to walk away with many lessons from these stories.  I need to walk away with a more forbearing attitude with my daughter when she questions my decisions.  I need to walk away from controlling my husband's actions when he decides to something differently than I do.  I need to let my infant son lightly touch the hot mug of tea in my hands to experience the heat coming from it, to realize that there is a reason I am not letting him play with it.  I need to allow my preschooler daughter to question my knowledge, I need to allow her to experience first hand some of her mistakes and much more importantly, I need to do it with an open-heart and accepting attitude.  I realize that many times it's much easier said than done, but what greater example can we have to follow than that of our Creator with His closest servants- Prophets Ibrahim and Musa (pbut).

Discovering Myself?

I know, it sounds so tacky, but I need to write down things that I learn about myself so that I can help myself figure out what i like and what i want to do to develop myself inshaAllah.

• I know that i'm pretty good at organizing events. 
• pretty good at marketing events/ideas/thoughts. 
• like working with youth. 
• ok/good at translating and have lots of experience with this. 
• good at navigating internet and using it. 
• good at playing competitive games with my kids (Spot It!)- this is important b/c i've been trying to find ways that i can do quality, fun time with the kids, and i feel bad that i'm not really into the craft scene. 
• i can read Qur'an with tajweed well alhamdulillah. 
• i'm not bad at reading and presenting on islamic topics, but i need a push. it's one of those things that i'd rather sit back and relax and not push myself to undergo the stress of it.

Trying New Things

I can't say I'm on a roll yet, but for the last 4 mornings, I've woken up at 6/6:30 am, and stayed up for the rest of the day, and i LOVE my ME time.  That's exactly what it is, I wake up, pray, and then sit and read a book in complete silence, without feeling like i'm ignoring a kid's needs.  It's addictive and I can't get enough of it, and it ends too soon with (usually) Hasan waking up, or (today) Sumayya waking up with a loose tooth.

The only possible (downside) is that I can't stay awake past 9 pm, which i gotta work on.  Esp when Saif stays up till 1, 2 and 3 am every night.  But on an upside, I've actually made an effort to clean the kitchen up before I go to sleep the last 2-3 nights, and again, it's really difficult when you can't stay up, but it feels SO good after the fact.  Props for that goes to my sis in law, Maha, who we just came back from visiting in Michigan.

And props for me waking up early goes to two 'things'.  1. ZenHabits blog (www.zenhabits.net)- who encourages early waking up and tells you to do ANYTHING you like to help you do it (props to Maha again for directing me to this site) and 2. the anything i like that helped me get up the first day or two.....WWF!!! That's Words With Friends, a scrabble type game on my Android.  Thanks to Afnan for getting me hooked!  I don't do this first thing in the morning anymore, but it helped get me to do it the first couple of days when I seriously needed a push. 

My whole (motherhood) life, I've FEARED the idea of waking up early b/c I didn't think I'd have the energy to continue with my kids during the long day, but alhamdulillah, i'm doing well!!!! 

And back to the final inspiration to stay on this course of waking up early: my ISLAM! which has always taught us that there is complete baraka in those early hours.  Ya rabb, please help me stay the course and benefit from my early morning hours, with your thikr, praises and husn ibadah.

Mama Hekmat

wish i could tell you baba that mama hekmat passed away, and console you and itrahham 3leeha together, but you and her are in it together now.  I ask Allah SWT to bless her and gather her with all the good people, to accept her good deeds and mulitply them and to forgive her sins and overlook them.  Ya Allah, ighfir laha warhamha wa anta khayrul rahimeen.  Allahumma ameen.

July 22nd, 2011

first july 22nd without my baba.  Allah yerhamak.  thinkin of deeja on this day, must be lonely for her. 
had a short qiyam at the mascc and saw baba during his last ramadan standing there giving one of his last khawatir. 
lots on my mind this ramadan, as baba vividly was a part of my memory last ramadan.  will write more inshaAllah. 

Where do Words Come From?

Sumayya wants to know who named the animals with their specific names?  ....

Who invented language? Was it when Allah SWT taught Adam the names of all things? Was that the teaching of the concept of speech and language?

Yellow Socks

Yesterday Shifaa was visiting mama in the hospital.  "Giddu Esam Allah yerhamu kaan laabi shurab abyad," she said as she noted Teta's white hospital socks. 

The nurse noted that yellow socks denote that the patient is a fall risk....

Watermelon

I was eating a watermelon a few minutes ago, and a pain washed over me.  I remembered Tariq Dahmas's passing, and remembered how baba's appetite was taken away by the cold, unfeeling hospital staff and doctors who starved him to death when he had an amazing appetite, made him reach the point of not wanting a taste of anything within 5 days. Allah yakhudhum.  They starved my father. 

I still see the image of him gulping down that small, 4 oz bottle of Danone yogurt drink like a starving man, with no reservations, not even caring that we were all looking at him with shy eyes.  He gulped it down like a starving man and wished for more.  May you be swimming in a Paradise of sweet tasting, cool water ya Abi.  May Allah take them for treating my father that way. Coming in the middle of the day, at 2 pm, and telling him not to eat anything or drink anything till the next morning so they could run a ct scan on him.  And him muttering, 'la hawla wa la quwatta illa billah.'  Another day of starvation for a man who was already down to 115 pounds.  Another day of starvation, when he didn't need to.  He could've done that stupid CT scan and have only fasted 8 hours before it, not 18.  I hate them and the system for its cold hearted unfeelingness.  And then, just three days later, we were begging him to take a spoon of soup, a sip of a drink.  But he didn't care for food anymore.  All he wanted was water.  Irhamnee ya rab.

Tariq Dahmas Passed Away

Allah yerhamuh.  Saif and Muhammed's close childhood friend passed away yesterday at the age of 34 years from a brain tumor that took over his body.  May Allah envelope him with his rahma ya rabb.  My heart goes out to his family, his wife, his parents, his siblings, his best friends and everyone who was touched by him.  I still hear his voice ringing in my ears from Saif's fone calls to him at random times, telling him of the latest prognosis.  Allah yerhamu.  He is now with his Creator. 

Maryam is Engaged!

alhamdulillah.  been looking fwd to this day, and happy it's here, but defn worried for my lil sis.  hope Allah gives her sa3ada in this life and hereafter.  be happy maryam!

why worried? just always wondering if this is the guy that will be right for her.  fear she looks for too much excitement in life and is too anal about marriage.  Allah Kareem.

Scraps of Paper

It's the little things that remind me of you; that i hold onto, in hopes of it triggering that memory, over and over and over again.  I want to remember you; I want to remember every last moment of that week.  I want to remember, and ponder, and tear up and hurt inside.  I want my heart to feel; I want to remember you.

I want to remember you as i drive down the long empty highway.  I want to think of you as i look into the horizon; the blue skies, the white clouds, the setting sun.  I want to tear up and feel the ouch.  I want to cry as i think of you, baba.

I dig into my pocket and pull out a piece of folded up paper, torn off of a master sheet.  I'm taken aback; it's your insurance number, written in your handwriting.  Or maybe it's mama's but you wrote it for me when i took her to an appointment, and i folded it up and put it in my pocket.  Actually, it is your insurance number.  That was the jilbab i wore on one of those short days i spent with you in the hospital.  one of those last days.  That note was written in your handwriting, your good, strong, solid penmanship.  And I remember.

I remember the day before your passing, when you brought all your energy together, pulled together all your remaining wit, concentrated so so fully on signing your name, one. last. time. on that sheet of paper.  that last will and testament that Muhammed and I just couldn't read out loud to you.  Just couldn't.  We tried.  We passed it back and forth, each one of us thinking that he would be the one who could pull himself together.  Reading two words and stopping as our voices shook and our eyes clouded over.  The other one pulling the paper from the other, starting all over.  And then you said, "Don't you know what it says? If it's good, then I'm find with it." And of course I cried more. 

You summoned everything you still had to keep your thoughts straight, to stay awake, to think clearly in front of that notary public.  You held your shaking hands steady, as steady as possible, and s l o w l y signed with that steady stroke- one. last. time.  Esam.  cursive, with the m stretc h i n g into a straight line that bent underneath into another line, a chair for the Abdallah.  But that's where your energy dissipated and the Abdallah came out unsteady, almost gibberish, so unlike your beautiful handwriting.  I cried. I still cry.  thinking of how you signed every check of yours with such beauty. such itkan.  perfection.  pride.  pride in your name, your father's name- your grandfather's name.  beauty and pride. 

and i hold on to that scrap of paper.  it stays in my pocket for another day.  another day when i will wear that jilbab once again, and absentmindedly stick my hand into that pocket, fingering a scrap of paper and wondering what it holds.  Opening it up and bringing back a rush of memories.  thinking, remembering, thanking God for that one more opportunity to remember, fingering it, and letting the mind roam.

fatima

Shifaa and Jiddu

I love how this little kid constantly remembers my baba at random moments.  Like the other day when she said, "Giddu wahashni aweeee!"  Or the day she said, "Sumayya, right Giddu 3agooz wa tita shabaab?" hahaha, this is how he used to always joke, and the little kiddo understands his sense of humor....


A few days ago, Sumayya asked me to make her some tea (herbal tea).  Shifaa chimed up, "I want 2irfa bil-laban (I want cinnamon and milk)."  I questioned her (everytime she says something about baba, i question her to see what she's thinking.  I want to hear more,) "Why? How do you know 2irfa bil-laban?"

Shifaa: "Giddu used to drink 2irfa bil-laban.  Remember?  One time he told me, 'Shifaa, come and taste this (ta3ali du'ee).'" 

I laughed.

She asked for it with cold milk b/c the little kiddo doesn't like warm milk, very particular with her taste.  I gave her some.  She said she couldn't taste the cinnamon.  I told her it had to be warmed up.  She allowed me to warm it.  Then tasted it and said, 'I don't like warm milk,' and left it.  Sumayya ended up finishing it. 

That was all fine with me.  I'm happy she refreshed a memory with me.