As light as a feather
As I shovel one more heap of soil to cover her grave I see her sitting there pouring her whole big family tea and extra sugar for us kids. Her three sons just came out from her grave to make sure she is in her favorite position for her final sleep.
The brave sons did what no one dare do, all with one hand place their mother inside on her back and kiss her one more time, imagine, they will never see her again, may Allah rest her soul. They barely make it out, the eldest first, and her youngest second, and suddenly I feel scared we need to get one of them out fast, he also makes his way out and crashes upon me.
All dressed in white and smelling her best, no movement, no breath, her soul is to descending to her maker, she can hear us praying for her, from our deepest places, we will miss her, and wish her only the best, for she came, she had her life and now she bids us farewell to meet her husband and others.
My mother and her sisters have no clue what awaits them, for the true pain comes after the fact has sinked into ones self. I do not know what they are feeling, but I can only imagine, and with my imagination comes rivers, rivers of tears and still I am no where near their suffering.
The days and nights are simply the best for her journey, we pray and pray for she is gone, never to be heard of again, the only place she has nested for eternity lies within us, farewell grandma, or sitoo as we once called her, yes, once called her.
Her death like all deaths came sudden, but then again what is sudden? each soul has an expiry date attached upon birth, its the one way ticket with no return that kills us. We live our days as forever, and should work for our end as if we die tomorrow, easier said than done.
I know all of you have or will face the consequences of us being human, sorry to barge in on your day like this, but I know you feel my pain, I know you share my sorrows, I know you too have prayed for her, thank you for your support, and live life to the fullest.
Our most loved are least seen, our most loved are the people we never show how much, our most loved are the ones that forgive us for our forgetfulness, our most loved are right there before you waiting for your hug, our most loved will never leave us, we always leave them, and they still wait for our return.
Like an angel she sleeps, she hears our voices and footsteps, she hears her sons and grandchildren flock around, she knows who is there, she can’t tell us how happy she is to see us all gathered round her, like old times. The old faces of the little children she once fed and served tea have grown white hair and look much older, her little boys have their children to support them, her smiles and laughter fills the air, her sounds are now trapped in our minds never to be heard.
As the years flew by, I cannot recall the farewells of the many people I attended. They say a person has done good when his funeral is light and heartfelt, she was no exception. From the moment we knew, to the last pice of dirt on her grave, in the hottest of weather, in the worst of feelings, she was as light as a feather, may her lightness take her to her destination with ease, farewell beloved.
mamdooh.alradadi @ Jeddah on the 21st of August not knowing what to say, in memory of Fatma Khomais
10 Do Not’s for better communication What the old man saw
In recent weeks i have lost several, that i cared about…I feel your pain…deepest condolences to you and your family
Thank you sweetie