Jharoka

Today is supposed to be one of the most festive times in the Islamic calendar. It marks the end of Ramadan, a month of fasting – restraining when you eat and drink to daylight hours only (and yes, not even water), restraining your thoughts, your unnecessary speech and increasing your prayers, devotion, remembrance of God, charity and overall good deeds. All this with the intent that this behavior carry forward throughout the entire year.

Alhamdulillah (all praise be to God), that this Ramadan was all of that with a dedication to the memory of my late parents. I pray that any of the goodness that I did, said or thought is counted in my parents’ good deeds.

So how to “celebrate” this holiday while grieving? It’s been 12 weeks and 1 day since my Mom passed and 24 weeks and 3 days since my Dad. The day we buried my Mom would have been my Dad’s “first” birthday after his passing but somehow got overshadowed by the shock of my Mom. So this holiday marks the painful “first” of both them not being here on this auspicious occasion.

Memories of every Eid we spent together has flooded my brain followed by the memories of the loving calls, wishes and prayers they would give when we couldn’t be together. As I kid, I remember my Mom giving me Eidi (money) on Eid and telling me to go get a separate Eidi from my Dad. And without fail, every Eid we could not be together after me having kids, she would make sure she sent a check, enclosed in a sweet handwritten card with their Eidi. I took so much for granted and it physically pains me now for the longing of it again.

Originally, I had wanted to go to Augusta, meet with my brother and be with my parents (at least the last place I physically left them) and sit at their graves, talk with them and pray for them, but life’s logistics didn’t align to make that happen. But then again, I realized I talk with my parents all the time in my thoughts and sometimes out loud and my prayers for them transcend all realms and distance, so that brings some solace to my heart.

So today I am trying to balance the occasion with gratitude, prayer, remembrance and mindfulness. It’s not been easy and it’s not yet even noon. I know today will be rollercoaster and I will ride it through just as I would a real one. I am reminded by one of my favorite quotes (one that my best friend gifted me in a frame that hangs above my desk) that spoke to me after my sister passed away.

“Life is amazing. And then it’s awful. And then it’s amazing again. And in between the amazing and the awful its ordinary and mundane and routine. Breathe in the amazing, hold on through the awful, and relax and exhale during the ordinary. That’s just living heartbreaking, soul-healing, amazing, awful, ordinary life. And it’s breathtakingly beautiful.” ~ LR Knost

With this, I wish a heartfelt Eid Mubarak to my family, friends and the entire Muslim world. I pray that all of our devotion, supplications, charity, intentions, and good deeds are accepted and are carried through the remainder of the year. I pray that the Almighty bring recovery and healing to the ill and the weak. I pray He shower His infinite mercy on those in poverty, hungry, oppressed or in distress. I pray He forgive all of those who have left this world on their journey to the next and that He grant them Jannat-ul-Firdous, amongst those with whom He is most pleased. I pray we are all reunited with our loved ones in Jannah one day. I pray that the Almighty guide and protect us all. I pray he puts love, kindness and compassion in the hearts of everyone and that we want for each other what we want for ourselves. I pray that today is a blessed, happy occasion for all. Ameen sum Ameen.

If you have made it to this post / page, I would be most appreciative if you could say a prayer for my beloved parents and sister. Thank you.