Search

Bedoor Bluemoon

Everyday writing to expose the soul

Tag

mom

The Piano

iwp43

via Image Writing Prompt #43

“You never play anymore, you just sit there,” I told my dad one afternoon as the light fell on the black and white keys and his unwavering hands.  He seemed lost in thought as always and kept his eyes fixed on his fingers.  I recalled how the music notes would fill our home from early morning before we were ready to go to school.  It was the sound of the keys and the smell of the coffee that made our home what it was.

And now, the sound ceased to exist.

It was three months ago when my mother passed away so suddenly.  It was a calm night in March when I heard her being rushed down the stairs with my dad.  I came out of my room with my headphones on my shoulders not knowing what was going on.  She had on her light blue robe and was pale as a ghost.  She was holding onto her stomach and screaming from pain and dad was barely able to stand, let alone attend to her.  “Don’t worry hon, I just feel a bit sick but I’ll be back.”  She tried to comfort me sweetly.  I believed her, I always believed my mom.  I never thought she would ever lie to me or ever leave me.

But she did.

There was nothing they could do to stop it.  It was unexpected and so sudden that I would find myself forgetting she was gone, like waking up and expecting to smell the coffee.  My dad couldn’t arrange anything for her funeral so my aunt took the heavy responsibility off our chests.  It was dark, dim, and morbid like any other funeral regardless of the weather.

And to make matters worse, the sound of the piano stopped.  “You never play anymore, you just sit there,” I stated again.

She’s gone.  He whispered, with a tear rolling down his cheek.

Dignify our Elders

Dignify

image

When you think of old age, you either think of someone else or of a funny meme you saw online of an elder doing something funny or technology related which, in your opinion, is purely cute or basically obscene.  It is never that we think that we, one day, will be old in our age and will have to consider how the younger generation perceives us.

You see, how old you are in your mind varies from one person to the next.  I always saw myself as a late teenager/early twenties person.  My sister always perceived herself as she were, and a friend of mine saw herself as an older person.  (In Your Mind, How Old Are You?)

It is not a joke when you start having grey hair.  Thank you, mom, for the great genes (yaay).  It is also not a joke when you get diagnosed with high blood pressure, kidney stones, diabetes, heart conditions, and all the fun stuff that are pointing towards the way life is flying by.  This is not a post to make you seize the moment, by all means, carpedium all day.  This is a post for you to consider those elders in your lives and what they feel.

Their bodies are not as strong as they used to be.  Imagine how that would make you feel?  They can’t see as well, start losing a bit of hearing, and some start forgetting words.

No.  It’s not very dignified.

And we come in, all young and stupid acting like we know best.  Some have lived through wars, seen how life changes, lost loved ones and families, and yet we come in, all young and stupid acting like we know best.  Acting like our limited knowledge of how smart phones work gives us the power to know.

No.

It doesn’t.

Just because they ask us how to download their emails or they believe everything they see on social media doesn’t make them any less.  It makes them more.

They are pure in heart, pure in soul.  Lived longer and seen more.  Wiser, warmer, and much better than we ever will be.  And we will only know their worth when they are gone.

God bless our loved elders who still have patience in all our foolishness and childishness.

Dignify your elders and you will be dignified.

Infused With Love- Ramadan

Infuse

momِ

As we enter the Muslim’s holy month of Ramadan, we look forward to the great blessings that are bestowed upon us every year and which we thank the Lord for as we are reminded of them daily.  We are reminded of the poor’s feelings of starvation through our fasting and thus we thank the Lord for our financial status which enables us to purchase the basic foods, at least, that will allow us to sleep with full bellies.

We are thankful for our families who are happily gathering around the table at the time of breaking our fast and we are reminded of the many people who have lost their loved ones (may God bless and have mercy on their souls.)

We are thankful for not being at war.  For having shelter above our heads and peace in our minds before our bodies.

And also, we are thankful for our mothers.  Our mothers who look forward to this month to have us all sitting together as a family before we all got busy with our lives.  And I don’t know about you, but my mother shows her love through food.

 She infuses her dishes with love.  Every single dish coming out of her kitchen smells of her.  Every single dish has the sense of her soul.  She use all her senses combined to produce a vast array of dishes that are loved by us all.  She slaves away in the kitchen, replacing last year’s dish set with a brand new one as Ramadan’s blessings, just to make us smile.  And instead of resting while she fasts, she chooses to go the extra mile and make my brother his kebabs because he just loves them.

And as if that’s not enough giving, she hand picks mint from her herb garden to infuse it in our tea, alongside love.

A big thank you to my mother who had a tiring day, you make Ramadan what it is. xoxo

 

Create a free website or blog at WordPress.com.

Up ↑