Death is only a Heartbeat Away...

"I gave him my heart, and he took and pinched it to death; and flung it back to me. People feel with their hearts, Ellen, and since he has destroyed mine, I have not power to feel for him.." ~ Emily Bronte

In the name of Allah swt, the Merciful and the Benevolent.
 

We all know death awaits us. But because its so scary to think about, we push down the thought of us ever being taken away from this plane down in the depths of our sub-concious . I think its just human nature, the parts of us that focus on self-preservation.

I am no different. But the Almighty is fair. And just at the moment when I begin to forget the mortality of my existence, I am always shaken awake.

Nenda, my ice queen was an orphan. Her late mother's sister, her grandmother and one of her older cousins were the ones who took over the role as her mother, as she lived away from her father when he remarried.

Her late mother's sister was a mother to her and a grandmother to me. I remember her passing away when I was sitting for my PMR exams. She never got to see me become an advocate and solicitor or Bonda becoming a doctor.

Her children, my mother's cousins grew up with her and became her de facto siblings. They were always there with us and for us. When we came back from the UK broke with a handicapped maksu, we stayed at the longest time in a small, 2 room flat in USJ with their family.

They went everywhere with us for berubat sessions for Maksu, and never stopped being supportive of us. A future that seemed so bleak at the time I remember, was made all better with their support and laughter.

When my mother suddenly lost her cousin last week, I was shaken to the core, because it was so sudden, and because for the first time in my life, I saw my mother's resolve to continue to live shaken.

I wasn't given the privilege of being with her at the moment of her passing, and only managed to escort her back home from the hospital with her only son, head in his hands sitting beside me in the car. She will not have the chance of seeing her first grandchild, her daughter in law being only 7 months along at the time of her passing. 

And when I saw my mother sitting alone on the stairs of our house yesterday, I realised something I never realised before, that my mother was tired.

My mother was tired, that she was seeing those that she loved, who she grew up with, who had loved her throughout her difficult life, one by one return to the Almighty... and that she was tired.

And as I quietly sat on the stairs with her, just listening to her speak while she broke down into floods of tears, I heard her admit that she really felt like she wanted to follow wherever my aunt is right now.

And the strangest thing was, I admitted to her that I understood how that feels like because I have felt like that from time to time.

There are days that I miss Akif so much that dying seems like the only logical option for me to see him, even for a while. And then I shake myself and remind myself what would happen to Airiel if I die. And I carry on. I pray everyday that please let me see my son in my sleep so I don't go crazy missing him. Alhamdulillah I do get to see him from time to time.

I realised that in so many ways, I am as tired as my mother. 

I realised that as my son grows, my parents are getting older.

The people that have been there for me throughout my life, they might not be there anymore one day.

 

Indeed we shall all return to dust one day.

I hope we are all prepared for the inevitable.

Let us be the best Muslims we can be in the meantime.

Have a good rest of the weekend.

Much love from Airiel and I.

Peace and love to everyone.