It is early in the morning, and when I read a letter by my father, I didn't expect to be that emotional. I was young and confused when my father died, and I didn't shed a tear, and growing up, I never cried during funerals. I always said: "Well, since I didn't shed a tear for my own father, I guess I fully accept that we are all going to that destination." I am a very contradictory person in the sense that I am a crybaby when it comes to seeing other people struggle, whether it is a real scenario or a movie scene, but when it comes to the passing of loved ones, I was always the most level headed, and that is until my nephew (who was a teenager) suddenly passed away.
All my little self talk about death not being the end went out of the window. Even long after the funeral, in the most unlikely place, a sharp feeling of grief will take over me, and I shed tears. Your letter made me cry, it also reminded me of that boy.
Do you know what helped me overcome that grief? I heard a hadith that said that when people pass away, the souls of other believers are delighted to see the newly deceased soul, and they visit him and ask, "How is so and so (people in this life)?" Then they say, "Leave him alone just now, for he has just come from the grief or confinement of the world."
This hadith emphasises how much this life is a struggle and full of trials and tribulations, and the soul rests properly in that other realm. Also, I imagined the souls of my father and uncles sitting down with the soul of my nephew, talking about us. He will never be alone.
Another thing that helped greatly was that each time I remembered him, I give sadaqa on his behalf, so my link to my deceased relatives is never broken, although we are in different realms. I imagine them hearing about me each time I give sadaqa on their behalf.
The story about the only time I felt the passing of my father is quite long, and it is time for me to prepare for work, but don't worry, I will try to write it and send it to you.
A small summary: it was about a teacher who targeted me for no apparent reason, something that baffled every classmate I had, and my mother was too busy with work to deal with that teacher, and what I did to the teacher to sort of get back a tiny bit of justice, which was not enough, and discovering decades later why that teacher was so against me through the bias of my niece. It is a case of mistaken identity. I will develop on that later on....
