Our last conversations

My heart sank rock bottom the moment I realized that in the middle of our conversation, your other half has gone, forever. Of course, this is something you would do everyday, to call up on mom and give away all your sorrows and pain to her. You’re her sister after all. And I’ve heard from mom how you’ve been crying ever since he’s left you; you were once his dear and what was more saddening was the fact that your final words with him were about you and your children, who would take care of you, since by His permission, you have survived a battle, and you are still battling. I hope He cures you and purifies you, since illnesses are an expiation of sins.

His Mercy.

As I reminisce in this brief moment with my aunt, I recall how she and her late husband, along with my cousin and I spent the the afternoon together, around the hospital bed that he was warded to. All of us had our medical appointments: I had my eye appointment, my cousin had his ankle checked, after fracturing it from a football match, and my late uncle was hospitalized after he had difficulty breathing. The session was casual as usual and we’d talk about life and as always I would be admonished by my cousin for quitting too early. But his admonishments always hurt me, in a good way because it wakes me up from the dream I was sleeping in. I remember how my aunt would be beside his husband, teasing him about the plastic bag full of medications and how he would dislike eating them.

The quiet moments. Those moments, as far as I can recall, would make me think as to how long more until our time will come, whether we will be guided to know our true purpose, and at one part I would beat myself up psychologically for failing to put in any effort to show him Islam. But I need to remind myself too at times, that it is Allah who guides people to His Deen. I can only convey and the least I can ever do is to pray. But prayer does wonders.

If only people knew the price of Islam, they would pay their lives just to buy it, because it’s the most expensive gift one can ever possess. Four months later, I’m wiritng about that last meeting. That was our last conversation — me and my late uncle. It’s as though he is still alive now. Time flies. Take a moment to pray for him, that Allah be merciful to him. Aameen.

I’ve had many last conversations with closed ones before they left this world forever. One occured during poly days; it was Saturday, and we were all busy preparing for our stupid Analogue electronics module exams. I had already given up by this time, and I was nonchalant as to what the outcome of my exam would be.

It was my cousin.

She suffered from stomach cancer. I remember, three days before she left us, we played a game…something like wordplay. I remember praising her long range of vocabulary, and asked her for a tip.

“Just read more books.” She said.

If I had known, I would have asked for more, maybe say a few more words to encourage her to stay strong. But we don’t know the future.

For a few days I kept a distance between life and studies. I was losing my grip anyway. And I am thankful for that, because my life in poly was all about finding life again.

Alhamdulillah for giving me hidayah.

As we stroll through life everyday, take a moment to re-evaluate the conversations you have. Ask yourself questions that would make you give your full attention to them. Really mean it when you have a conversation. And try, at least, to understand their viewpoints on and in life. The thing that I feel we need most today is..empathy. We talk more than we listen. What if we listened more than we talked? The world would be a much better place. We would be more empathetic towards the things around us. Well it’s a skill that many do not master, and one that I am still struggling to learn. But we are all struggling anyway….

struggling to learn and appreciate life to its fullest.

May Allah open the doors of goodness for us. Aameen.

One clap, two clap, three clap, forty?

By clapping more or less, you can signal to us which stories really stand out.