I hope Ũ âll well! I would like to share a short story with you which was sent to me. if its true Its very touching! Part 1 today, thereafter another 10 parts which will be posted everyday. Please follow to find out what happens in the end Part 1: A mothers anguish This short story ends at part 11. We pull up to the gates of a small, rather run down looking house. The gates are low and the paint is peeling. I try not to think negatively and depress myself further. When the car comes to a halt, I jump out slowly. Fareed is already unpacking my bags from the boot. A feeling of dread settles over me. Aatiqah is waiting around for everything to be over and I’m not quite sure if Zain understands what is happening as yet. Aatiqah and Zain don’t jump out of the car. Fareed walks up to the door and knocks. I follow slowly behind him with my walking stick. A kind looking white woman opens the door. You must be Mrs Kasim, she says looking at me. I nod, looking around. She moves aside to let us in. Fareed takes my bag in and I follow. ‘Welcome Mrs Kasim, I’m Helena, I’m the director of this hospice, I hope you will have a pleasant stay here with us’ she says. I nod again fighting back tears. I refuse to cry in front of my son, the son who is abandoning me in this place. The son whose wife has put him up to this. The son who is depriving me of my grandson and who is putting me here in this place so that I can die and be out of his way. Fareed sets down my bags and then walks out without a backward glance. I feel like I’ve been stabbed repeatedly in the heart. How much of hurt is one person supposed to bear? How can he feel nothing and leave me here alone? He didn’t even look back or stay to see if I’d be ok. Helena leads me to a room with 4 beds in it. All 4 beds have been placed in line with a gap in between. ‘This is your room and these are your room mates’ she says pointing to the inhabitants of the beds. I notice that the second bed is vacant and I assume that’s my bed. ‘This is Grace, you’ll see her most of the time. She runs the rooms, I’m usually busy with admin the whole day’ Helena says cheerfully. I manage a meek smile at Grace.‘Let’s get you settled now shall we’ Grace says as she brings my bag closer to the bed ‘you’ll be using this set of draws so you can unpack your stuff here’ she says pointing to a chest of draws in the middle of two beds. ‘We have breakfast at 8am, lunch at 1pm and supper at 6pm. Bathing time is between 9am and 11am, you know depending on whose using the bathroom and who we need to help and things. There’ll be nurses here for most of the day, if you need anything you can call them. You can rest so long I’ll be back to fetch you at 6pm for supper’ she says as she smiles and leaves. It looks like my room mates are more ill than I am. It frightens me that I’ll end up like them. I look around the drab, sparsely furnished room and a deep feeling of sadness settles over me. I can’t believe that the son I brought up with so much difficulty has abandoned me to be taken care of by strangers and to die among strangers. I don’t know what I’m going to eat, will there be halaal food? How am I going to manage here? How am I going to make namaaz? I feel so rejected, so sad, so betrayed. How am I supposed to bear the indignity of it all? The tears fall and I lie down in bed and cry.
Posted on: Tue, 16 Dec 2014 11:50:39 +0000
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