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Author Topic: On Little Joys and Happiness  (Read 2178 times)
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« on: May 12, 2008 07:34 AM »


Yesterday was a day dedicated to love and appreciation.  It was a day of recognition for limitless sacrifices. It was a day where children from many countries are united in showing their love to an incredible human being.  It was a day where children pay homage to their mother.  A woman who is the pillar of strength they turn to when life seems to be hard.  A haven of peace where they seek refuge in when they are scared and weary. A fountain of wisdom from which they drink to learn the secrets of living a good life. A blinding ray of light which shines through the core of their souls, filling their existence with love and compassion.

It is hard not to have a mother, hard not to have my pillar of strength, my haven of peace, my fountain of wisdom and my beautiful ray of light.  It was hard to see daughters holding their mothers' hands, joy reflected on their face. The joy of experiencing this amazing woman in their lives.  It was hard to look into the restaurants and see the satisfied look of a woman who knows that her children love her and knowing that I could never again see that look on my mother's face. It is just too hard.

I started the day by visiting the grave of my beloved mother.  Sat for a long time at the head of the grave, talking to her. Telling her how my children have been, telling her that my dad still misses her very much.  Telling her what is new in my life. When I paused for breath, there was just silence. No responding laugh from her because my youngest son read al-faatihah loudly during jama'ah prayers.  No responding clicking of her tounge to show that my dad is being silly.  No responding murmur of sympathy to tell me that she understood.  Just this awful gaping silence. I told her that I love her very much and irrationally, I wanted to hear her say she loves me too. I clung tightly to her tombstone, somehow wishing I could squeeze the response out of that cold stone. All I managed to do was squeeze the tears out of my eyes.letting them fall on the fresh flowers I laid on her graves. In silence, I finished reading the Qur'aan for her and turned to leave.  As I made my steps back to the car, I again reconcile myself to the fact that I have lost my mother.  In this world, she is no more..

That night, when the house is quiet from sleep, I made a special sujood for her.  Begging Allah's forgiveness for my beloved mother.  Begging Allah's mercy during her wait for yaumul qiyaamah.  Begging Allah's pleasure in placing her in Jannatul Firdaus, with His beloved.  After prayers, I suddenly caught a whiff of something that smell so sweet and fragrant and I knew at that moment that Mom is pleased with me.  Because I have given her the most precious Mother's Day gift ever.  The gift of du'ah.

Happy Mothers' Day Mom.  I love you.

um aboodi
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« Reply #1 on: May 12, 2008 04:05 PM »

may Allah have mercy on your mother's soul, ameen.

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Tranquil Heart

« Reply #2 on: May 21, 2008 04:34 PM »


The young mother set her foot on the path of life. "Is this the long way?"  she asked. And the guide said: "Yes, and the way is hard.  And you will be old before you reach the end of it. But the end will be better than the beginning."

But the young mother was happy, and she would not believe that anything could be better than these years.
So she played with her children, and gathered flowers for them along the way, and bathed them in the clear streams;
and the sun shone on them, and the young Mother cried, "Nothing will ever be lovelier than this."

Then the night came, and the storm, and the path was dark, and the children shook with fear and cold, and the mother drew them close and covered them with her mantle, and the children said, "Mother, we are not afraid, for you are near, and no harm can come."

And the morning came, and there was a hill ahead, and the children climbed and grew weary, and the mother was weary. But at all times she said to the children," A little patience and we are there." So the children climbed, and when they reached the top they said, "Mother, we would not have done it without you."

And the mother, when she lay down at night looked up at the stars and said, "This is a better day than the last,
for my children have learned fortitude in the face of hardness.  Yesterday I gave them courage. Today, I 've given them strength."

And the next day came strange clouds which darkened the earth, clouds of war and hate and evil, and the children groped and stumbled, and the mother said: "Look up. Lift your eyes to the light.  "And the children looked and saw above the clouds an everlasting glory,  and it guided them beyond the darkness. And that night the Mother said, "This is the best day of all, for I have shown my children God."

And the days went on, and the weeks and the months and the years, and the mother grew old. But her children were tall and strong, and walked with courage. And when the way was rough, they lifted her,  for she was as light as a feather; and at last they came to a hill,  and beyond they could see a shining road and golden gates flung wide.  And mother said, "I have reached the end of my journey. And now I know the end is better than the beginning,
for my children can walk alone, and their children after them."

And the children said, "You will always walk with us, Mother, even when you have gone through the gates." And they stood and watched her as she went on alone, and the gates closed after her. And they said: "We cannot see her but she is with us still. A Mother like ours is more than a memory.
She is a living presence..."

Your Mother is always with you.... She's the whisper of the leaves as you walk down the street; she's the smell of bleach in your freshly laundered socks; she's the cool hand on your brow when you're not well. Your Mother lives inside your laughter. And she's crystallized in every tear drop.

She's the place you came from, your first home; and she's the map you follow with every step you take.  She's your first love and your first heartbreak, and  nothing on earth can separate you.

Not time, not space... not even death!!!

In Loving Memory of
Hatijah Bte Alam

"Do not treat people with contempt, nor walk insolently on the earth. Allah does not love the arrogant or the self-conceited boaster. Be modest in your bearing and subdue your voice, for the most unpleasant of voices is the braying of the ass." [The Holy Qur'an, Surah Luqman - 31:18-19]
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« Reply #3 on: May 23, 2008 12:10 PM »


Thank you sisters for your beautiful words. It means a lot to feel that I am not alone in my thoughts.  I know that there are many other sisters and brothers out there who have lost their parent(s). And I know many would think I am making my loss so public instead of private.

Inshallah, I share my mom because I celebrate who she was as a person and more importantly, I hope to inspire and soothe those who can find solace and comfort in my writings.  Sis Siham, the post was beautiful, thank you. I know my mom is still with me, in me, and that is how she is immortalised.

Alhamdulillah, I am glad that I have this beautiful spirit of sisterhood to lighten the soul.

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