I feel bad that it has taken this long for me to write in my blog here. The last few weeks have been so hazy and have been a long blur, it's surreal. I cannot believe it has been nearly three weeks since my father passed away. I remember three weeks ago this day I selfishly decided to stay out late because coming home was so hard; it was so hard to see my father in the state he was in. I came home at 12:45 that night and sat next to my dad and talked to him until I was consumed by my sleepiness. He was in his medicine-induced incoherent state and was seeing things that were not really there. I talked to him as best as I could in a way where he could easily understand what I was saying to him. With tears in my eyes, I told him how proud I was of him. Alhamdulillah, I got to tell him all of the things I felt about him and didn't want to lose him without him knowing how much I loved him.
Abu, my dad.. my best friend, my protector, my confidante, my coach, my teacher, the person I could come to when I had any sort of problem and his wise words would always steer me in the right direction. I don't think there is anybody I have ever known who understood me the way Abu did. He knew my quirks, my oddities, my difficulties and struggles that have shaped me into the person I am today. I think back to my childhood and the way my dad used to say my name; "Faaaaisal, Faaaaaisal", he used to say my name with such endearment and love; he was so gentle with me. I think about when I was five years old riding my scooter around the driveway when I heard thunder in the sky. I threw my scooter down and ran inside crying and afraid of nature. My dad sat me down on the couch and explained to me that I had nothing to fear. He was a bright guy and gave me a scientific explanation of what caused thunder but that wasn't what calmed me down, it was seeing that my dad was calm and he was one person who could protect me from anything.
Abu was a brilliant man. He had his Master's Degree in Physics by age 21; he had been propelled ahead in a few grades by his high level of intellect. Abu told me stories of how he was bullied because he was so much younger than his peers but was smarter than them. He was a social outcast in his younger years but learned that sometimes you have to assimilate and learn to like things for the sake of fitting in socially; this is a valuable lesson he taught me. Abu was the oldest of 7 boys and 1 girl. His father was an intellectual but did not have a very stable career and his mother was not educated. Abu took it upon himself to take care of his family the best he could. He came from a house in a small rural village in India that lacked electricity and his home only had two open rooms to fit everybody. Having meat in his house was a luxury, all they could afford was bread and saalan (soup) and that was what he would eat every day. The days they did have meat, everybody could only have one small piece but he would forego his piece so that his youngest brother could have a little bit extra. Damn, writing this is hard. I think of the sacrifices he made in his life and it really makes me think of the love he had for his family. He would study when he was in college by streetlight in his village all while holding his youngest brother in his arms so he could fall asleep.
Abu moved to the U.S. in the mid 1970's but had such a hard time finding decent work. He would work two or three jobs in New York City and send 90% of his money back home to help take care of his family. For two years, he gave his family almost all that he could until his mother encouraged him to start keeping a little bit of money for himself too. Abu was fired from a job because he was already exhausted from having worked all night, he was fasting and took a nap during his break; his supervisor thought he was a drug user so he fired him. When my parents got married, my dad once again came to the U.S. to work and save up money. He would write to my mother often, saying that he loved and missed her. Even though he had to move soon after they were married, he was very protective and loving of her, which is not something seen in the culture he came from.
My dad was crazy about my mom. He confided in her more than anybody. He helped her become more than a housewife or somebody who works a low-paying job, he encouraged her to pursue her Bachelors Degree and helped her in all aspects of her career. He often spoke about how proud he was of her and all of her accomplishments. I don't know what to say, my dad was such a good man. I can talk about the time I saw him nursing an injured squirrel back to health or the time he picked up a random man walking in the bitter cold and drove him two hours away for the man to catch a bus.. my dad did so many good things for so many people. Alhamdulillah.
I could come to my father for literally any problem I had. I could talk to him about the stupidest things like when I lived in California and used to have a lot of cougars flirt with me, he would entertain my silly ideas of dating a rich older woman. My dad had stories, man, he had stories; he was a great storyteller. I am so thankful for all of the time I got to spend with him. I remember living in California and checking my phone early every morning just to make sure I didn't receive an urgent text or call about him.. I always worried about his health. He had smoked for 40 something years and attempted to quit so many time but the pressures and stress of life caused him to give in to his vice. I found out he had Cancer in December 2011 and it's been a very rocky road since then. He spent so much time in the hospital getting surgeries, going through chemotherapy and radiation and we all truly thought that he would beat Cancer. My dad was a fighter and never gave up hope in beating Cancer.
He never wanted us to worry about him or feel any sort of sadness about his ailment. I spent so much time hiding my emotions from everybody. I never talked about sadness, I never cried or let people see that things in life could ever get to me. There was a day in September 2012 when my dad was in the hospital and I was sitting next to his bed. I sat there looking at him in such a weak state and covered my mouth as I could feel a rush of emotion coming over me. My mother looked at me and asked why I had tears in my eyes. I tried my best to hold back but then my father pulled me in to hug him and I completely lost it in his arms and he started crying with me. I couldn't remember ever seeing my father cry before and it really it me hard. I started to feel like the end really was coming.
His health got progressively worse since then. It was then that we learned that his Cancer was in stage 4 and was not treatable at that point. From September-November, his health was getting worse and worse but was never severe enough that he had lost hope. My dad knew that my mother always wanted a bigger house. I know he wanted one as well but never wanted a house so badly that it bothered him. Within just a few months, he found a very nice house, did the paperwork and purchased it to please my mother. We were all reluctant to move, as we had lived in our previous home for 21 years but we wanted to make our parents happy. We moved in this house in mid-December and Abu's health got significantly worse since then. He could not breath without being hooked up to an oxygen machine, he could barely walk, he was always taking Morphine or Delautid to treat his immense pain (Cancer had spread throughout his entire body). He had to be taken to his hospital where he was unable to talk for 4-5 days. He had lost so much weight that he looked like he had been in the Holocaust. Throughout all of this, he always kept up a smile for us.
His last conversation with my whole family was a very inspiring talk. He told us his life story and how he was raised in such a tiny dirty house and that he never wanted us to experience the hardships and difficulties that he went through. He wanted his children to live with him rent-free but he wanted us to be together. That was the first and only talk in several months I can remember with him that his speech was so clear and his thoughts were so well-formed. The last day of his life, I was lucky enough to get to come home mid-day for a few hours and sit next to him and make dua'a. There was a moment were he looked me in the eyes for a long while but did not say a word. I looked right back at home and smiled, as I did not want him to see a hint of sadness from me.
My dad never grew out of seeing the kid in me, he always saw the best in me and treated me in such a loving way. A few weeks before he passed away, he had asked me for forgiveness if he had ever done anything that upset or hurt me and it pained me to hear him say such words to me. "Abu, you have absolutely nothing to apologize to me for, okay? I would never hold anything against you." He told me recently that he was very proud of me, he liked the person that I am becoming and have become and that means the world to me. This month has been the longest month of my life. There is this quiet in our house that is ominous. I miss him so much. I cannot put into words how much I truly miss him. I will never for the rest of my life be able to discuss with anybody else the things I could discuss with him. I cannot say that I was not prepared for his death but no amount of preparation can make a person truly ready for such a loss.
Abu, I love you. I will always pray and make dua'a for your soul. Every day that you're gone is one day further since I last saw you and one day closer to the day we will meet again, inshaAllah.
Abu, my dad.. my best friend, my protector, my confidante, my coach, my teacher, the person I could come to when I had any sort of problem and his wise words would always steer me in the right direction. I don't think there is anybody I have ever known who understood me the way Abu did. He knew my quirks, my oddities, my difficulties and struggles that have shaped me into the person I am today. I think back to my childhood and the way my dad used to say my name; "Faaaaisal, Faaaaaisal", he used to say my name with such endearment and love; he was so gentle with me. I think about when I was five years old riding my scooter around the driveway when I heard thunder in the sky. I threw my scooter down and ran inside crying and afraid of nature. My dad sat me down on the couch and explained to me that I had nothing to fear. He was a bright guy and gave me a scientific explanation of what caused thunder but that wasn't what calmed me down, it was seeing that my dad was calm and he was one person who could protect me from anything.
Abu was a brilliant man. He had his Master's Degree in Physics by age 21; he had been propelled ahead in a few grades by his high level of intellect. Abu told me stories of how he was bullied because he was so much younger than his peers but was smarter than them. He was a social outcast in his younger years but learned that sometimes you have to assimilate and learn to like things for the sake of fitting in socially; this is a valuable lesson he taught me. Abu was the oldest of 7 boys and 1 girl. His father was an intellectual but did not have a very stable career and his mother was not educated. Abu took it upon himself to take care of his family the best he could. He came from a house in a small rural village in India that lacked electricity and his home only had two open rooms to fit everybody. Having meat in his house was a luxury, all they could afford was bread and saalan (soup) and that was what he would eat every day. The days they did have meat, everybody could only have one small piece but he would forego his piece so that his youngest brother could have a little bit extra. Damn, writing this is hard. I think of the sacrifices he made in his life and it really makes me think of the love he had for his family. He would study when he was in college by streetlight in his village all while holding his youngest brother in his arms so he could fall asleep.
Abu moved to the U.S. in the mid 1970's but had such a hard time finding decent work. He would work two or three jobs in New York City and send 90% of his money back home to help take care of his family. For two years, he gave his family almost all that he could until his mother encouraged him to start keeping a little bit of money for himself too. Abu was fired from a job because he was already exhausted from having worked all night, he was fasting and took a nap during his break; his supervisor thought he was a drug user so he fired him. When my parents got married, my dad once again came to the U.S. to work and save up money. He would write to my mother often, saying that he loved and missed her. Even though he had to move soon after they were married, he was very protective and loving of her, which is not something seen in the culture he came from.
My dad was crazy about my mom. He confided in her more than anybody. He helped her become more than a housewife or somebody who works a low-paying job, he encouraged her to pursue her Bachelors Degree and helped her in all aspects of her career. He often spoke about how proud he was of her and all of her accomplishments. I don't know what to say, my dad was such a good man. I can talk about the time I saw him nursing an injured squirrel back to health or the time he picked up a random man walking in the bitter cold and drove him two hours away for the man to catch a bus.. my dad did so many good things for so many people. Alhamdulillah.
I could come to my father for literally any problem I had. I could talk to him about the stupidest things like when I lived in California and used to have a lot of cougars flirt with me, he would entertain my silly ideas of dating a rich older woman. My dad had stories, man, he had stories; he was a great storyteller. I am so thankful for all of the time I got to spend with him. I remember living in California and checking my phone early every morning just to make sure I didn't receive an urgent text or call about him.. I always worried about his health. He had smoked for 40 something years and attempted to quit so many time but the pressures and stress of life caused him to give in to his vice. I found out he had Cancer in December 2011 and it's been a very rocky road since then. He spent so much time in the hospital getting surgeries, going through chemotherapy and radiation and we all truly thought that he would beat Cancer. My dad was a fighter and never gave up hope in beating Cancer.
He never wanted us to worry about him or feel any sort of sadness about his ailment. I spent so much time hiding my emotions from everybody. I never talked about sadness, I never cried or let people see that things in life could ever get to me. There was a day in September 2012 when my dad was in the hospital and I was sitting next to his bed. I sat there looking at him in such a weak state and covered my mouth as I could feel a rush of emotion coming over me. My mother looked at me and asked why I had tears in my eyes. I tried my best to hold back but then my father pulled me in to hug him and I completely lost it in his arms and he started crying with me. I couldn't remember ever seeing my father cry before and it really it me hard. I started to feel like the end really was coming.
His health got progressively worse since then. It was then that we learned that his Cancer was in stage 4 and was not treatable at that point. From September-November, his health was getting worse and worse but was never severe enough that he had lost hope. My dad knew that my mother always wanted a bigger house. I know he wanted one as well but never wanted a house so badly that it bothered him. Within just a few months, he found a very nice house, did the paperwork and purchased it to please my mother. We were all reluctant to move, as we had lived in our previous home for 21 years but we wanted to make our parents happy. We moved in this house in mid-December and Abu's health got significantly worse since then. He could not breath without being hooked up to an oxygen machine, he could barely walk, he was always taking Morphine or Delautid to treat his immense pain (Cancer had spread throughout his entire body). He had to be taken to his hospital where he was unable to talk for 4-5 days. He had lost so much weight that he looked like he had been in the Holocaust. Throughout all of this, he always kept up a smile for us.
His last conversation with my whole family was a very inspiring talk. He told us his life story and how he was raised in such a tiny dirty house and that he never wanted us to experience the hardships and difficulties that he went through. He wanted his children to live with him rent-free but he wanted us to be together. That was the first and only talk in several months I can remember with him that his speech was so clear and his thoughts were so well-formed. The last day of his life, I was lucky enough to get to come home mid-day for a few hours and sit next to him and make dua'a. There was a moment were he looked me in the eyes for a long while but did not say a word. I looked right back at home and smiled, as I did not want him to see a hint of sadness from me.
My dad never grew out of seeing the kid in me, he always saw the best in me and treated me in such a loving way. A few weeks before he passed away, he had asked me for forgiveness if he had ever done anything that upset or hurt me and it pained me to hear him say such words to me. "Abu, you have absolutely nothing to apologize to me for, okay? I would never hold anything against you." He told me recently that he was very proud of me, he liked the person that I am becoming and have become and that means the world to me. This month has been the longest month of my life. There is this quiet in our house that is ominous. I miss him so much. I cannot put into words how much I truly miss him. I will never for the rest of my life be able to discuss with anybody else the things I could discuss with him. I cannot say that I was not prepared for his death but no amount of preparation can make a person truly ready for such a loss.
Abu, I love you. I will always pray and make dua'a for your soul. Every day that you're gone is one day further since I last saw you and one day closer to the day we will meet again, inshaAllah.
Comments
Post a Comment