Today I feel I have done everything wrong: late for salah, late for appointments, not heeding the indications from the tafseer. I can’t seem to wrap my head around what I must do and what must I change. My brain has come to a full stop. I can remember just two good things that I did today………
“It is wonderful to know that you can visit him when you meditate” she says, and thus I try my hand at meditating.
My mind is floating as I attempt to meditate… I go into the field easily and without asking for it I feel he is with me. My child, encouraging me across the bridge with “come on Mom you can do it” what bridge is this I think? And I cannot recall…
Instinctively I know that the other side of the bridge is where I will have peace and happiness. On the other side is protection from the pain of grief and a body that no longer responds to my mind with the alacrity that it did…and yet I linger on the bridge.
I want to think of him as 25, but I cannot, he is ageless with his linear dimple, his hair flick and his engagement with the moment he is in, never looking ahead too far.
I fall back into the meditation letting myself go……..I am in a small town near Swarthmore, he springs to the door to open it, despite his crutches or his broken foot……… the memory fades but the presence does not.
His first birthday flits through me, how unhappy I was that his father was not there. How stupid of me not enjoying the moments with him and Shireen.
Now I know nothing matters, the people who are absent on the sentinel milestones of their loved ones are the ones who lose, but sometimes the present moment can be ruined by yearning for what is not there.
I walk into the garage to get the hated yet needed blower to clear the deck of the falling leaves. His car stands shrouded in blue in the garage, uncared and untended slowly returning to the state it began with.
Things……….. all remain, but the soft skin and the crisp hair of a loved one is no longer there to be kissed and blessed. The baby smell of his head as an infant floats by……..
My womb aches for my child, and perhaps at its call……..I feel his presence yet I cannot stop my tears…………. Because though he is here with me, yet he is not.
Shireen is on her way to visit. It is Jumma, three elevens or six ones, something is supposed to happen, and he is here with me with my guardian angel to give me a hand when it does…..