I never feel different after the New Year, but this year is an exception. It is coming up on the anniversary of my father’s death. Gone a year now. I will always associate this time with his death. A major aneurysm in his brain stem took him from us before we even knew he was leaving. It was sudden, but expected for a very long time. Amongst his myriad of health problems, my father stubborn to the end, would not yield and take any medication, save his coral calcium because it was his “fountain of youth”. No matter what, the man could always make you laugh. It is a hard fact to swallow especially since I see him in my son’s face and catch glimpses of him in the mirror. I suppose that is how they stay with us, the dead, in little pieces.
Expected, but sudden. Isn’t that always how death goes? In spite of the fact that we’re all walking towards the abyss since taking that first breath. Despite the diagnoses or the risks we know are hidden beneath our skin. The fact remains and we cannot argue with it. That’s part of becoming an adult, dealing with that fact. For a while after a death, especially of someone close to you, it is all that is on your mind. It’s not just about all of the things you will miss about them, it sends you reeling into a world of what if x, y or I die?
Then you worry. Anxiety tries to eat you in one bite. I went crazy for a good week thinking every little twitch or pain was death knocking at my door. Until I thought, I am a muslim, what is wrong with me? Subhanallah the answers to peace are right in front of us, but if we go into crisis mode we forget. I had to be reminded and so I’d like to share how I got past the loss of my father as well as the grief and anxiety that followed. Inshallah it may provide some insight, some help at a time where everything and everyone seems irrelevant.
Death is not easy. I don’t believe time heals the wound, but rather puts a bandaid on it so that we don’t have to look at it all day, everyday. At times the sheer force of a memory so real and sweet can peel it back and I am right there again: on the phone, mouth agape, disbelieving the voice of my sister sobbing through the receiver. Through Islam I can be brought back. The first thing that actually struck me is that we do a sort of dying every night when we sleep. We rise by the grace of Allah and by our own human weakness have the need again to sleep. In this way we may understand death. I know it is an analogy that has been used before, but it never ingrained itself within me until I was forced to deal with death. If I think about death as some scary unknown, of course it is going to cause anxiety. However, if I can grasp that it is something like sleep it becomes more familiar, less terrifying. The first step is making it more relatable.
The next step was to remind myself that this life is just our test. If you’re failing the test then you have every reason to be worried. If you feel you are doing your best or making an effort for that A, what is there to fear in death? We are to be rewarded multiple times for any good we did and be called to account exactly for the bad that we did. If you trust in the fact that Allah is a just and merciful God then death again becomes less scary and more palatable. If we are good in life, then death will go well for us. In fact we shouldn’t think of it as death, but a better life.
Consequently, I needed to come to terms with my father being an unbeliever and what that meant. Ultimately we can never know the fate of another soul. It is between Allah and them. I was however comforted to read in the monotheistic traditions that someone as sick as my father was (mentally) cannot be held fully accountable for their actions. Like a child with no judgment, they are dealt with less harshly. I’m not sure what was and what was not done or said in a lucid state of mind in my father’s life, but I am positive that he will be shown mercy because the Qur’an tells me so and that gave me a great deal of comfort. Unlike Christianity or Judaism, the Qur’an never condemns anyone straight to hell, save antagonistic disbelievers. Ultimately we are all (monotheists) praying to Allah and he knows our hearts. This too gives me peace about my Christian family members.
The thing that helps me through it everyday is the fact that there are numerous actions I may perform to honor his memory. I may tell stories about him, look at pictures, reminisce, give alms on his behalf and most importantly, pray for his soul. The fact that Allah has provided us with the opportunity to help our loved ones even in death is an amazing comfort. It enables you to feel helpful instead of helpless. There are many hadith about this matter, but the one below is the one I feel is comprehensive:
“O Messenger of God! My parents have died; is there anything left with which I may be good to them?’ And he replied: ‘There are four things: praying and asking forgiveness for them, carrying out their promises, being good to their friends, and giving proper attention to those kinship bonds which could have only be attended to by them.”
Knowledge always helps calm nerves and anxiety. I suggest reading as much as you can about the process of death in Islam and internalize the fact that death IS. Preparation and familiarity with the subject before you have to deal with it personally are key to getting you through. There are plenty of wonderful articles and Qur’anic verses available for you to peruse. Let them guide you through one of the most difficult things that we all must eventually face. Alhumdillah it was the key to peace for me and inshallah you will find it is the peace you have searched for or will be searching for.
I shall leave you with a poem I wrote in my contemplation on the topic. Inshallah it too may provide some comfort.
Death
{1}
When it comes to death we are as children
New to the world, never wanting to sleep
For fear something magnificent will happen in our absence
Perhaps because of it
We feel the pulse of life all around
Clawing our way out from under our blankets, finally breathing sweet air
We fight and kick and bite
Pointlessly argue it isn’t night
Whining that we’re old enough
Yes she tells us, that is it precisely
I’d like to think though
One day when I’ve played outside
And twirled and curtsied
Put on enough airs
At my share of parties
Eating too much sugar
Soaking up the last dregs of tea
With my animal crackers
That I will be like the satisfied toddler
Worn out and willing
Ready.
{2}
We look across at each other knowingly
There is a line somewhere between now and then
That we have crossed
It’s invisible so we don’t know how to get back
Exactly where to step
They shake my hand and apologize
Sorry for your loss
Mostly they’re sorry for themselves
I look over at you and see you understand
But they never will
Not because they don’t care but
Because you cannot ever know
The shape, color or weight
Of someone else’s loss
Like our souls, it is unique
There are degrees to a loss
I can tell you time heals nothing
Just mutes the gaping whole
Files it in between grocery lists and phone calls
Chaperoned by etiquette and expectation
Given a special space to spiral
Eventually it evolves
We get used to the past tense
And can talk about it
Callously, casually
Like the weather
Unpredictable, it strikes, stupefying
One day we will be lost too.
Jazak Allah Khair
Christen
And even though it doesn’t help, I am sorry for your loss.
