03.05.08
Posted in Asma at 2:06 am by salafiya
Assalam Alaikum Wa Rahmatullah
Allaahu Akbar I miss my sister. I was just looking through our stash of photos, as I occasionally do. I found one picture of her at her school. It was Open Day (I think that’s what it was called) and that was the day she was diagnosed with cancer. subhanAllaah, even though she had been through other illnesses, she still looked healthy. But looking at her pictures after she started receiving chemotherapy, she never looked the same. But her spirit was just as high throughout the remainder of her life.
The pictures reminded me of so many memories and I sometimes fall into the trap of “what if” or “if only”. I went to an AlMaghrib class recently and a couple of my friends brought their younger sisters along. How I wished I could have brought Asma. Their younger sisters are close to the age my sister would have been (15ish) and that hurt even more. I love these girls and du’aa that Allaah gives them and their families the best (Ameen). Even so, at times I couldn’t help but feel lonely. I let a couple of tears fall during the class regarding this. I was doing so well too about not crying because of my sister at the class until the shaykh mentioned the story of a little girl who had died. I would’ve cried even if Asma was not on my mind because it was a beautiful, sad story. But the fact that it reminded me of Asma made me hurry out of the class because I knew I would soon start crying out loud (instead of quietly weeping). And even before the door was shut properly, I couldn’t hold my sobs in. inshaAllaah the class didn’t hear me (since the door was still on its way to completely shutting). I felt like a drama queen though…especially when my friend came to console me. Alhumdulillah for friends like that, who make you laugh even while you’re crying, who cry with you, who hug you and say they don’t know what to say but they still remain with you.
You know, I miss the fights too. My friends sometimes have fights with their younger sisters and that reminds me of my fights with Asma. When we were young, we’d get into physical fights lol. No one would find out, it would only be for a few minutes and then we’d sometimes start laughing or usually we’d just not talk to each other for a few hours. Once, I turned the light off on purpose because I knew she was afraid of the dark (if she wasn’t in bed). Asma got scared and punched me in my stomach. It did not hurt and I was about to laugh, but I decided to make her pay so I cried (without tears haha). Asma panicked and gave me her inhaler (she thought that would help me) and kept saying ‘TAKE IT, TAKE IT!” because she was so worried. I laugh every time I think of this memory, even though I feel really bad about what I did.
Ahhh, it’s been awhile since I talked about Asma on here (publicly OR privately - usually now I have password protected entries when I talk about her) and it feels good to let it out.
May Allaah grant all of my family, friends, the Muslims, and myself Jannatul Firdaus. Ameen. InshaAllaah when we make it to Paradise, I’ll introduce you all (readers) to my sister. Maybe we can all sit around the Nabi sal Allaahu ‘alayhi wa sallam, listening to him recount his life (inshaAllaah!). Alhumdulillah for Islaam….these thoughts are what keep me sane (that I have a chance of reuniting with Asma again inshaAllaah along with meeting the rest of you).
Anyways, erm, I have a test on Thursday and it’s 1:04 AM Wednesday morning so I should really start studying. Make du’aa I do well on the test and finish both of the research papers (and everything related to them) on time. jazakumAllaahu khairan
 Assalam Alaikum Wa Rahmatullah
Permalink
12.10.07
Posted in Asma at 12:30 am by salafiya
Assalam Alaikum Wa Rahmatullah
You know how people say that the pain goes away with time? It doesn’t, at least not for me. The only thing that happens is that my mind blocks the memories of Asma, so that I’m not crying all the time. But there are so many times that I can’t block those memories or when I don’t WANT to block those memories. Some of these times are when I watch my brothers interact with one another.
Sometimes I get jealous of my brothers. They have each other. I mean, I have them too, but it’s just different. They grew up together. They were the trio and Asma and I were the pair. They still have each other, but I don’t have Asma. They borrow each other’s clothing, but Asma and I can’t. They borrow each other’s shoes, but Asma and I can’t. I miss the countless hours we’d spend in our room, just playing.
And lately, whenever I buy something to eat at school, I think about how I would ALWAYS make sure Asma ate it as well. She’d do the same for me. And we’d both share with our mom. If either of us got chocolate or lollipops or anything else, we would ask for an extra “for my sister.” If they didn’t give us an extra, then we’d share that one food product. So a couple of days ago, as I was eating the peanut M&Ms I bought, those memories were nagging me. Then I realized I hadn’t shared with my mom for a long time so I went downstairs and gave it to her. I told (reminded) her of how we’d (Asma & my mom & I) always share….it was one of the rare times that I have ever spoken about Asma in front of my family. Then my mom told me to come closer and she hugged and kissed me. Right after that, I left because I knew if I stayed, we would both cry.
I rarely ever speak about Asma in front of them because I know if I do, I might break down. They often speak about her and the atmosphere suddenly gets very depressing, so I usually go do something or go to a different part of the house. I avoid eye contact because I know that every one of those faces talking about Asma will be painful to look at. You know what else? Ever since Asma passed away, neither my mom or dad have laughed the way they used to laugh. Sure, they’ll still laugh out loud, but I can hear that there’s something missing in their laughter. Even during Asma’s illness, their laughter changed. That was mainly due to stress and worry, but now it’s due to emptiness.
=(
Permalink
10.21.07
Posted in Asma at 12:10 am by salafiya
Permalink
Enter your password to view comments
10.19.07
Posted in Asma at 10:08 pm by salafiya
15 15 15 15 15 15 15 15 15 15 15 15 15 15Â 15 15 15 15 15 15 15 15 15 15 15 15 15 15 15 15 15 15 15 15 15 15 15 15 15 15 15 15 15 15 15 15 15 15 15 15 15 15 15 15 15 15 15 15 15 15 15 15 15 15 15 15 15 15 15 15 15 15 15 15 15 15 15 15 15 15 15 15 15 15 15 15 15 15 15 15 15 15 15 15 15 15 15 15 15 15 15 15 15 15 15 15 15 15 15 15 15 15 15 15 15 15 15 15 15 15 15 15 15 15 15 15 15 15 15 15 15 15 15 15 15 15 15 15 15 15 15 15 15 15 15 15 15 15 15 15 15 15 15 15 15 15 15 15 15 15 15 15 15 15 15 15 15 15 15 15 15 15 15 15 15 15 15 15 15 15 15 15 15 15 15 15 15 15 15 15 15 15 15 15 15 15 15 15 15 15 15 15 15 15 15 15 15 15 15 15 15 15 15 15 15 15 15 15 15 15 15 15 15 15 15 15 15 15 15 15 15 15 15 15 15 15 15 15 15 15 15 15 15 15 15 15 15 15 15 15 15 15 15 15 15 15 15 15 15 15 15 15 15 15 15 15 15 15 15 15 15 15 15 15 15 15 15 15 15 15 15 15 15 15 15 15 15 15 15 15 15 15 15 15 15 15 15 15 15 15 15 15 15 15 15 15 15 15 15 15 15 15 15 15 15 15 15 15 15 15 15 15 15 15 15 15 15 15 15 15 15 15 15 15 15 15 15 15 15 15 15 15 15 15 15 15 15 15 15 15Â 15 15 15 15 15 15 15 15 15 15 15 15 15 15 15 15 15 15
Permalink
09.20.07
Posted in Asma at 6:22 pm by salafiya
Assalam Alaikum Wa Rahmatullah
 My grandmother was in the hospital for a biopsy (there’s something wrong with her but we don’t know for certain what it is). Please du’aa for her inshaAllaah.
 Anyways, I went to go visit her at the hospital yesterday. When I entered, I felt a pang in my heart and my eyes stung. Though the hospital was much different than the one my sister was usually at, there were still so many memories.
Watching my grandmother helpless hurt me, of course. She’s my grandmother! She used to help take care of me sometimes and I have this one home video of her feeding me biryaani like there was no tomorrow. So obviously it did hurt to see her like that.
But honestly, I think my heart has numbed/toughened to these things since I saw Asma go through so much worse when she was just a child. I wasn’t even going to go to the hospital yesterday because of my dislike of them, but I still went because my mom reminded me that it’s Ramadhan and we should visit the sick (which reminded me of the hadeeth of Abu Bakr accomplishing all of the things Muhammad sal Allaahu ‘alayhi wa sallam asked for).
As I was sitting on the hard leather sofa in the room, I kept looking at my mom because I knew that if I was feeling these things, so was she. As I looked at her, I thought of the countless nights she slept on the types of sofas that I was sitting on right then. Memories came pouring back. These are the memories that came to me:
1. Hospital ice cream - those little cartons of ice cream which my brothers and I would always eat when we got hungry at the hospital. Asma loved those too.
2. The one day we “ran away” from her room. Asma and I decided that we got tired of being in the same room the whole day (plus my parents were sort of angry with me for a reason I forgot) and went to a lounge that was on the same floor and shut the door. We played video games the whole time (Lion King). Nobody knew where we were, so it was like a hideout from the world. lol, unfortunately they found us (we had everyone worried because no one knew where we were). Now that I think about this day, I wish that I could’ve just stared at Asma’s beautiful face instead of playing the game with her.
3. The constant disturbances throughout the night. The nurses got so annoying and I would be so angry at them for my sister. She could not have a peaceful sleep during the times she was in less pain than before because they had to keep waking her up every few hours. Yeah I know that nurses are only doing their jobs, but tell that to a patient who is in constant pain and just wants to be left alone.
As I thought of these things and I looked at my grandmother, I thought of how different both of their lives were. I could not feel the same sadness that I felt for Asma. Most of the tears I have shed or the sadness I have felt since finding about my grandma is for my sister. Again, it’s natural for me to feel sadness for my grandmother’s helplessness, but I think it pales in comparison to what I feel about Asma. I don’t know if I’m the only one who knows what I’m trying to say lol…..but there you have it. My recent thoughts and contemplation.Â
Permalink
02.12.07
Posted in Asma at 12:56 am by salafiya
Permalink
Enter your password to view comments
01.26.07
Posted in Asma at 6:41 pm by salafiya
Assalam Alaikum Wa Rahmatullahi Wa Barakatuhu Â
Most of you have heard about our brother Zuhair, aka NaseehaMan, passing away. http://talk.islamicnetwork.com/showthread.php?t=12647
I guess I feel the pain of this death more than I would otherwise is because he and my sister had so much in common…
_______________________________
Message to Zuhair’s loved ones:
Ever since I heard this, I have been crying on and off. If any of Zuhair’s loved ones ever read this, I just want to say that I am very sorry for the pain you have to go through. It will always be with you, but life does go on and you will be happy inshaAllaah. Other times, you feel just as sad, if not more, then when he first passed away. Nothing will ever take your pain away, but the thought of Allaah and His Mercy contents me when I think about my sister. Read the Qur’aan, it will take your worries away. Zuhair and his loved ones will be in my du’aas inshaAllaah. May Allaah accept him as a shaheed and reunite him with those he loved in Jannatul Firdaus, ameen.
_______________________________
His death brought back so many painful reminders. Above all the painful reminders were the memories of my 12-year old sister. I think of the day of her funeral. My family, some relatives, a family friend, and I set out to the funeral home to wash Asma’s body. I hadn’t cried too much that early morning except a couple of times. Then I had to sign the ‘contract’ before washing her body. It set in that her death was final. I tried to steady the pen that was shaking because of my trembling body. I could not sign it, the tears blurred my vision and spilled onto the paper, smudging the other signature (of my mom). I cannot remember if I actually signed the paper. I do remember someone taking the pen from me.
Then I rewind to the moment I found out she passed away. I was waiting outside for somebody to pick me up from school because I had gotten a leaving permit. I was so scared that they would inform me of Asma’s death. I pushed that to the back of my mind and reassured myself that it was a missed dentist appointment. So when my brother finally picked me up, I smiled hesitantly and once I got in, buckled up, my brother told me that Asma passed away. At first it didn’t register. I looked at him, bewildered. Then I screamed his name, twice. Why I did that, I do not know. I barely remember that car ride back home except that it was the longest drive from my school to my house ever.
Then I fast-forward to when the janazah prayers were held. It was in the basement of the masjid. I just remember crying silently, people barely noticing me. [Actually, when we went for Hajj the next year, a woman we bumped into coincidentally said that she remembered Asma. She remembered the day of the funeral, when my three brothers were embracing each other. She did not even notice me, Alhumdulillah.] I almost choked on my gum I forgot I had in my mouth and in that moment I thought - oh no, if I die right now, what will happen to my mom? Oh my heart, my aching heart. I can’t explain how I felt just a few hours ago, crying to myself. It was as if my heart was being pulled away from me. I felt so helpless. Now I just keep shivering for some reason. When I want to cry, I feel myself exhausted and lightheaded so I content myself with just a few tears. I was thinking, I wish I had somebody to hug. I am too shy to go to my parents and cry with them about Asma. I will hug them otherwise, but I want to hug somebody, with them knowing why I am so sad. At the funeral, I had everyone to hug. I had everyone to cry with. Now I have no one for one reason or another. But, “He who has no one has Allaah”….Alhumdulillah ‘ala kulli hal. Forgive me for my rambling, I just needed to get all that out without crying for 5 hours.
Permalink
01.06.07
Posted in Asma at 5:13 pm by salafiya
Words cannot express the sorrow that remains in my heart even after two years. Tears that spill from my eyes and dampen my cheeks do not do justice to the pain. Gazing at the shelves full of her possessions makes me feel as if my heart is being squeezed. I long to see her again; to apologize for being a horrible sister, to shower her with hugs and kisses, to tell her how much she meant to me, to just love her. Yet I never will in this world. For the time being, I cherish the memories that remain. The ones that seem to flash before my eyes makes me feel as if I can’t breathe. The sorrow constricts my airway as it turns into sobs. Asma, my precious Asma.
~~~~~~~
No one knows how I feel. Not unless they, too, lost someone dear to them. And even then, they won’t know. People may try to understand by relating my life to theirs - but that is just it. What I have gone through, no one else has gone through. Not even my brothers or my parents understand the way I feel because my relationship with Asma was different. Nor can I completely understand how they feel because they had another, special bond with her. So in that sense, NO one can entirely comprehend.
~~~~~
Looking through the sixth grade year book, Asma’s last year though she stopped attending, I get feelings of anger as I wonder why it had to be OUR Asma. That anger subsides immediately once I answer my own question – Qadr. This leaves me with a quiet feeling of sadness and guilt. I think about the unopened letter from the junior high she would have attended in the ’05-’06 school year. It was a very early welcoming letter. She left it for my dad to open, which he didn’t because he wanted her to open it. Now it sits there, in our cupboard, gathering dust. No one will open it. Sometimes I take the letter out and just hold it in my hands. I look at it and get lost in my thoughts. When I put it back, I taste salt from my tears. Oh Allaah, it is as if Asma vanished from our tight embrace.
~~~~~~
This was written as I was organizing Asma’s cabinet to get the house ready for ‘Eid (which didn’t get done). I wrote as things came to my head, so it may be a bit jumbled up. Please keep us in your du’aas. jazakumAllaahu khairun.
Permalink
11.15.06
Posted in Asma at 9:56 pm by salafiya
Assalam Alaikum Wa Rahmatullahi Wa Barakatuhu
subhanAllaah, I miss her so much. So much. I know it may seem cliché, but there is an empty space in my heart that Asma & the joy she brought filled.That’s really all there is to it. I don’t really have anything else to say except that I miss her.
http://i8.photobucket.com/albums/a24/Aysha88/Random/FallLeaf.jpg
^ Leaf from the tree that she planted about 5 years ago. I don’t know why I take pictures such as these. I guess because I love photography, especially of nature.
Oh Allaah, reunite us all with Asma in Jannatul Firdaus, ameen!
Permalink
10.09.06
Posted in Asma at 10:35 am by salafiya
Assalam Alaikum Wa Rahmatullahi Wa Barakatuhu
Today is October 9th, 2006. Asma would have been 14 today according to the Gregorian Calendar, not that we celebrate birthdays. She was born on a Friday, I think in the morning hours. Though I cannot be sure since I do not even know the time of day I was born. She would have been 14 today and I would still be 17. For a few months we would only be three years apart if you look at the numbers. And then inshaAllaah this December I will be 18. But I won’t be able to compare ages with my sister any longer.
 This day, this month last year, Asma would have been 13. But she never reached her 13th ‘birthday.’ She left this dunya only four months after she turned 12 (again, according to the Gregorian Calendar). Funny thing is, she never wanted to become a teenager. She would say to me, “Aysha, I’m scared of being 13.” And I knew where she was coming from because I felt the same way when I was her age. My thoughts were that I was growing up too quickly and I wanted to be Daddy’s little girl forever. I didn’t want to become like these nasty teenagers that we so often see on television. I don’t know if these were the same reasons Asma had, but I knew how she felt. SubhanAllaah, Asma never had to deal with being a teenager, with growing up. Indeed, it is true that Allaah works in mysterious ways. Mysterious to us, that is.
While Asma was sick, I was looking forward to her becoming 14 and me 18. Or 15/19, 16/20. They are such perfect pairs in my opinion. I was looking forward to the day when I would be able to talk to her about anything and everything. I would tell Asma a lot of thing about my life, but not everything because I just thought she was too young at the time.
 But Alhumdulillah ‘ala kulli hal. I wanted to continue this post, but I can’t. InshaAllaah later…
 On a final note, Asma was born on Friday, October 9, 1992 and passed away Friday, February 11th, 2005.
Permalink
