More time…

A couple of weeks ago we heard news that my grandmother wasn’t feeling well.  Though such news about any elderly approaching 90 should not come as a shock, but it did.

My grandmother is not the type that gets sick.  She has the memory and stamina of a 50-year-old. And I say that with no exaggeration…mashallah.

Ever since we got that phone call, a million thoughts cluttered my mind…all sad thoughts about life without her.

I guess regardless of the person’s age we can't imagine losing them.  And you hear comments from people like “she’s too old, you should be thankful she lived that long, etc.” But regardless, she’s a valuable human being who’s still capable of celebrating life.

I have never seen anyone who welcomes the mornings with a hug! You feel she lives every second of her mornings, starting with a prayer at the break of dawn followed by a cup of coffee. If you were half awake you’d inhale the smell of coffee while listening to her careful footsteps getting ready to recite a few verses from the Koran.

She does that until it is time to perform the midmorning prayer, which can take minutes or a whole hour.  It’s her own form of meditation, her personal time with God! It will then be time for breakfast after which her actual day starts. 

Her face is full of light! She’s all about silence inside out. I have never heard her gossip or speak ill of anybody. She can go on for hours without saying anything unless absolutely necessary.  

Simple things like calling her about a recipe or opening up to her and expect to hear a prayer or words of support before you hang up, are enough to keep you going.  

Since my mom’s passing she’s been our only pillar. She’s been our symbol of motherhood and example of a fighter who made peace with death ever since she lost two of her own children years and years ago!

I remember very clearly the morning after my mom passed away she prepared breakfast and asked us to gather around the table. It was her own way of telling us that life has to go on.

I’ve been contemplating crossing the bridge to see her but the fear of this being the final goodbye is pulling me back.  The idea of seeing her weak makes me sick. But at the same time I feel the need to go see her at home because I know that one day this house will not be the same.

I pray to God to give us more time with her. I pray he'd give us more time to consciously enjoy her presence in our life.