A Series of Thoughts

I woke up today and thought of my son. I went through breakfast, chats with my parents and the inevitable errands. As I sat in my car, I looked up at the house that I grew up in. Memories flooded my mind and yet, instead of feeling a longing to go inside, I opted to start raking the leaves that littered the entire front yard and driveway.

I find, in times of sadness, the best thing for me to do is to exercise my body physically, and let my thoughts wander where they may. I came inside after 2 hours and sat down with a cup of chai. I was still in a silent yet reflective state. I knew I was being anti-social with mum and dad, but they also knew that I needed the time to work through my thoughts.

Marriage is a joyous thing. I fought hard for my choice in a husband. I went against my parents, my family, my friends, everyone in my quest to marry a convert. I believed that a man, who could accept Allah, who could revert back to Islam, was a wonderful example and that I was truly blessed that such a person wanted me as a wife. Looking back, I realize that the love, the honour and the diligence which I showed to my partner, was never reciprocal. It's a bitter pill to swallow. But, I've accepted it fully now. Friends sometimes ask, if he was to return and ask for another chance, would I grant it to him? No. There is no love left, there is no respect remaining. I'm ambivalent. I’m not angry, nor sad. Simply ambivalent.

The question then revolves around the loss of the greatest gift a murid of Allah has, the blessings of a child. I miss him, deep within my heart and soul, I miss him. I know in my rational mind that he is happy where he is, with Allah, but I miss him nonetheless. Not one day goes by that I do not miss that greatest of all gifts. The memories will always be there. So will the knowledge that his death was senseless, it was wrong and it did not need to happen. I've accepted, after quite a few years, that he is gone and that I cannot change the past. I still don't completely understand why it happened, but I accept that the outcome has my son in a place which is infinitely better than anything I could have given him in this life.

I'm not angry with Allah per se. I am however, sad that He took away something that was so good, so pure and which I wanted more than this life which I lead today. At times, I feel as if I'm coasting, simply going through the motions.

When I got married, I foolishly believed that I would love my husband for the rest of my days on this earth. When I went through my separation, I held onto that belief with the tenacity of a child in the midst of a full-blown tantrum. I've learned quite a lot through the separation and the years since the divorce. The finality of the gavel falling, declaring I was now a divorcee, resulted in me going through the months thereafter in a shell shocked state of mind. Over the course of this past year, I've started slowly emerging from the vestiges of that shock. I've experienced a roller coaster of emotions and lashed out in ways that proved to me that I could still feel.

I hope now that I can really become a good person, a human being that Allah feels is worthy of Jannat. My motivation may seem trivial or wrong to you, but for me, it’s the reasons why I even want to continue to struggle in this life. I want to be able to see, hear, feel and hold the child I lost. I'm not sure, if anyone can truly understand the pain a mother feels if they haven't gone through it. I pray, if you haven't, that you never do.

I'm not the same carefree devil-may-care personality; I was before this life-altering event. In some ways, I'm more mature, I'm more accepting, I'm more open, and I think, stronger for the experience which I've lived through. There are still vestiges of the carefree bubbly girl I was once was. It is good she's somehow still a part of the new me, it helps me to remember, in some ways, the past and that not all of it is mired in grief nor anger.

I pray that I overcome whatever difficulties and weaknesses/temptations that I expose myself to, consciously or unconsciously. I hope I persevere and I truly pray that Allah helps me to achieve this new goal.

Soul's Yearning

The memories of the past beckon yet again. The restlessness that remains firmly within my control has reawakened. It's stronger today. It's causing the normally happy-go-lucky personality on the surface which is me to be silenced. There is anxiousness, a searching which defies explanation. Those who know me know that there resides a deep sadness within me.

I'm the girl who everyone clamors to spend time with, yet I belong nowhere. I shy away from attention instinctually and yet my outer self is perfectly at home amongst a roomful of strangers. I'm a farce, a mockery, for I am lying to the most important person...me.

I close my eyes and hear his deep voice; he’s entered our home and is calling for our children and I. His voice even from the back of the house has a deep smile in it, for he’s happy, he’s home. I open my eyes…there is no one there. There is no smiling voice; it was like the rest of my life, a mirage.

Again my eyes close and unbidden comes the wailing of a child. An infant and my yearning know no bounds. I long from deep within my soul for that child …the one whose wails can only be quieted by his mothers soothing voice. I want that child the ones whose body my arms were chiseled to cradle.

I envision spending hours in front of a fire listening to my families stories of what occurred over their individual days. I blink and know before my eyes are even fully opened that I have no one to focus that attention upon.

An extrovert … internally I'm a whirring of emotions, thoughts, questions, concerns and a plethora of facts collected over a lifetime that seems wasted.

Tears come easily for I am deeply unhappy.

The knowledge that by society’s standards I am a productive member of society is meaning less and less to me daily. I've accomplished a lot by society’s measurements and yet I feel like a complete failure. I'm successfully able to play whatever games life hands me and yet I long for a return to simplicity. A normalcy which is so elusive that currently I feel the continued search for it is an exercise in futility.

I close my eyes yet again in hopes that I can recapture that mythical life…the one which beckons me. My soul is so utterly restless that no matter how hard I try, I cannot recapture that elusive dream for reality is the only constant in my life.

And so I enter reality, I open my eyes and I put my fingers to work.

The cursor incessantly blinks behind the phrase: “Where do I belong?”

Dare I press enter?

Questions and Answers

A key which unlocks the deepest parts of me....

In my mind's eye, I once remember a thought that flitted through my
mind when asked what it was that I was seeking. I wasn't able to
conceptualize it at that point, but now it is quite clear.

The world is Allah's gift for mankind. The oceans are like a woman's
heart. The land the perfect description of man...A woman's heart is
deep and pure (most times) and yet she doesn't encompass the entire of
this Earth...land is still essential, and that land is like a man;
protective and secure (most times). One without the other cannot
survive. However, it takes constant vigilance for each to survive and
infinite care for both to prosper.