After so long, I heard a knock on the door. I recognized the voice. Yes! Its my husband, and pooofff the butterflies entered from no where and began to fly inside my tummy. ---- Yesterday, exactly after few days spending time together he came back with a serious face. Asking me to prepare his bag and his Kalash. I was cooking his favorite dish. Astonished, I asked him whether he has to leave now, and he said yes. I felt very much disturbed. There were many things running in my head. Why today? I was sick for few days and was not able to cook and today Im okay and about to surprise with his favorite dish, but... ahhhh Before he leaves, I asked how many days will he be on his mission. He gave his usual answer. It seems easy for him, to utter, but too hard for me to accept it. ---- That night I went through my newsfeed and came across a post, written by one of the Rabaa massacre martyrs widow, Asmaa Hussein. I have been following her since last year, but yesterday was the first time I can truly feel what she felt. This is an excerption from her status that has shaken my heart. And I told him words that I will never forget: I keep seeing your face on their dead bodies. I couldnt shake the despair, I couldnt shake the feeling that those countless rows of bloodied men lined up next to each other in the mosques, motionless, all looked like Amr to me. He comforted me and told me not to worry. But the next day was Friday, and the last time I saw him was when he left for Jummah. Then, just like that, he was gone from my world, joining their ranks as a martyr inshaAllah. That is exactly what I do feel now. Everytime they releases the name of the martyrs and their photos, I will start to imagine my husbands name or photo to be on the list. Its just too painful and sometimes unbearable. Yes. I know I must face the reality. I was strong before. Before I made my way here. Because, I wasnt attached emotionally then. But when his laughter, his fragrance and the memories has become part of me, it causes my heart to shatter. No, it doesnt mean Im weak, its just that Im fragile. ---- And everytime he leaves, he took something from me that empties my heart. And until he returns, that hole remain unfilled. May Allāh grant victory to our Mujahideen. Ameen ya Rabb! Bird Of Jannah - Syria.
Posted on: Fri, 15 Aug 2014 06:47:57 +0000