By Mahmood Adamu Imam
“We are proud of you, mother. I am assuring you this on behalf of your children, and with the voice of my brother that is not here. You are a mother we are all proud of, and whom we will forever treasure. We won’t cry in front of you because we know you would not like it. We never regretted any moment spent with you. We will embrace your memory and follow your good course. We won’t let your spirit of goodness die with your death. We will try to revive it. For the mercy you have shown to His servants, may Allah have mercy on you”, I uttered these words while kneeling before mom’s corpse, holding my sister in my arms.
It was hard mustering up the courage to speak before her; but the more I spoke, the more I felt relieved.
I was certain that she would receive my words, and with a stammering voice (typical of my real self), conveyed a revealing message that I know would be pleasing to her soul.
Loved ones gathered in the room that used to be hers to say their farewell. My other two sisters, Nafi’a and Ummi, kneeled on one side each, walling Na’ima and I in the middle, and joined us in the prayer. I couldn’t imagine how happy mom was at that time (for it was always her dream to see us together). As I set to stand up, I turned my head to the little crowd in the room and asked the favour that every mom’s lover should not weep at such an hour.
I won’t deny the fact that I was greatly moved by mom’s death but I was convinced that she is now in a place more favourable to her than this, and so I refused to get depressed, at least for her to rest in peace.
If there is anything that would make mom uncomfortable was seeing others, especially her loved ones, in pain. I thought of her many many good things – it was no use being too selfish, and, therefore, swallow the bitterness of my misfortune – and I was healed. I escorted her body to her ‘comfortable home’ (by Allah’s grace) with the satisfaction that I had a mother whose goodness had touched the lives of many people and given life to many, even before I, her first child, was born.
At last, I remembered how dutiful she was to her parents, and the obedient wife she used to be, even when fate turned against her. I thought of dad and his words on her soon after her death; it further proved her as a successful wife. It is then for us, their children, to prove to them that their efforts on us didn’t go wasted.
If life were to remain still, then she would have lived long to see the many unborn babies that would be named after her.
If only life were to remain still, then she would have blossomed, like a rare flower, with each day that comes.
