August 17, 2013 was the date we set for our daughter’s Aqeeqah. It was a day that was meant to gather the people. Amr and I loved greatly to celebrate this beautiful gift of Ruqaya that Allah (swt) had blessed us with. And indeed, the people we love did gather that day. They came in droves, they came in the hundreds. But it was not to celebrate. August 17, 2013 became the date of Amrs janazah. We plan. We plan it all. We map out our happinesses and successes and make 5 year goals, 10 year goals. We plan our careers before we graduate high school. We plan our weddings before we get engaged…choose our baby names before we get married. We talk about every country we want to visit, and how we’d love to make a million bucks. We expect to live until we’re 99. Amr was 26. Tall, sturdy, smart, healthy. He was never touched by serious illness, never in any serious accidents. He was intelligent and hard-working. All indicators pointed to him living a long, productive life. Except for one thing – when Allah (swt) created the Pen and ordered it to write, it wrote that he would live for 26 years and 1 month. It wrote that he would be removed from this worldly existence in the matter of a few moments on August 16, 2013. And so it was. The angel of death is a dutiful servant. What we plan all falls away in the face of Allah’s ultimate plan. In the days and months after Amr left this world, it felt like death was near me. I smelled its coppery blood scent everywhere I went. I felt its grip, as though its fingers were being wrapped around my throat. I wrote my will. I felt like I would only exist here for a matter of days, then die like Amr. But now I sometimes forget what it feels like for death to be close to me. I forget, and I make mistakes and say and do things that I later regret. And when I am shaken out of that state of being oblivious, it hurts. It hurts to remember that I’m just a human who will err and fall and have the dirt of sin accumulate on me. And so I can do nothing but hinge my hopes on Allah (swt), The Pardoner, The Merciful, The Forgiving, The Eternal Refuge. I hope that when the time comes for me to meet Him, He will forgive me not because I am perfect, but because I tried to be a better version of myself every day. And because I admitted my weaknesses in His presence, and wasnt too arrogant to seek His help and forgiveness. Today could be my last day. These could be my last words. The bullet of death isnt reserved for people of a certain age or geographical location. It will hit me. It will hit you. At different stages in life, people often say to one another, “don’t worry, you still have time.” But I say something different. Worry. You have no time.(by sister asma hussein)
Posted on: Sun, 25 Jan 2015 07:05:12 +0000
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