I woke up this morning as per usual to make myself a sandwich and have a drink of water before heading back to bed when I saw that my granny’s lights were on. This was no big deal she’s usually up at the wee hours of the morning reading her Quran. I heard deep breathing that sounded like someone was in pain, naturally I walk into the room to make sure she’s ok when she tells me she’s really dizzy and maybe I should get her some honey. I rushed to the kitchen to get what she’d asked of me and returned to her side. Now I’ve had a similar experiences way more often that once and I remember that honey just made me throw up.
I’m not her…she’s not me… and I thought she’s been in the home remedy business for quite a while with her three kids and 6 grandchildren so who was I to contest. As expected the honey did what I thought it would do and at this point I thought ok…this will definitely make her feel better I know that when I’m all woozy, in cold and hot sweats a good upchuck usually solves my dilemma. It’s pretty run of the mill routine at this point… the weather is changing and she’s fasting so her poor little body just isn’t in as good a shape as it used to be. She starts to shake violently and her face looses all sorts of color. Still remaining calm, which is surprisingly uncharacteristic of me, I cover her up and decide that there is no need to worry my mother by waking her from her sleep. I figured seeing my calmness would ease her worry but instead it is what makes her decide to tell me that she’s dying. “It’s time for me to go Sandy”. She’s repeating the shahadah and saying allahdmeullah for having performed her wodoo. And just like that I went from calm to an emotional wreck. The tears streamed down my face and all I could think was how I wasn’t nicer, sweeter more caring and tolerant. How I didn’t spend as much time as I should have saying all I wanted to say. How many more times my tone could have had a lot more 7ineya in it. She asked me to get my mother, she wanted to see her before she left. So I ran to grab my mum…
how do you really wake someone up without startling them at 5 o’clock in the morning?
My mother came into the room half asleep and well aware that this sort of thing had happened before. We sat next to her babying her with hugs kisses and massages and had regained our composure until the dramatic ahaaat stopped. She whispers “the talking will stop now…. My tongue is feeling heavy” And just like that she stopped talking. She was still breathing and her pulse going but the silence was lethal. My mother, a woman who I’ve only seen cry on one occasion in her life, broke down and started to weep uncontrollably and all I could say was “2iti2y il shetan ya mummy, she’s fine she’s just resting” Then there was the slow opening of the eyes and the apologies for having to put my mother through all this… that she’d spoken to some person whose name I’d never heard before about a plot somewhere so my mummy wouldn’t have to worry about it. that’s when I thought… this is it… the nightmare I’d awoken myself up from by panic stricken crying last week is going down right here and now… in my bed and I’m never going to be able to lay here again without thinking of this exact same moment. I got flash backs of being 10 and how my mother wept so much she couldn’t catch her breath after her father passed away. I remember her laughing and cracking jokes at the funeral and I remember thinking for a split second that she’d officially lost it. I don’t remember hearing my grandmother’s laughter ring quite the way it used to after that day. I don’t remember her walking into a room and having it light up the way it used to. I remember her telling me she used to think she was going crazy because she could feel him watching her sometimes. All of this brought into my mind instantly. I would soon be the owner of all that emotional baggage with the passing of a few more minutes. It was right at that moment that I realized sometimes you need to have someone to call out to. Someone you’re hoping will listen and intervene when things get out of hand. It was at precisely that moment that I realized how lucky I was to be of faith… dwindling at times and not as strong as one would hope but of faith none the less. And with that thought I felt this calm come over me like it would be ok. Like after having said the words “ya rab” over and over again under my breath he was going to help me through this. It brought me peace and I thought this too shall pass.
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