I NEVER CEASE to be amazed by the power of our iman. Of how it gives light in the darkest moments, and strength in our moments of weakness.
I wrote the following three years ago in light of a family loss. But the same can be applied today at what we are witnessing in Palestine. The same resilience that only iman can give. Iman that makes a person smile in the face of such loss. Iman that even non-Muslims stand in awe of, leading them to want to know more about Islam.
My cousin received news this week that her daughter had returned to our Lord. They were separated by distance- one in New York and the other in Johannesburg.
My niece, in her 30’s, had struggled for a long time with lupus. The last few months had been very difficult. She left behind her husband and two children 11 and 6 years.
A video call to my cousin. She picked up. Tearful but trying to keep control of her emotions.
Parents never expect to witness the death of their children whether a child or all grown. Indeed, is it not strange that there is no word in English which describes a parent who has lost a child, unlike say the words orphan or widow? Perhaps it is unthinkable.
I could feel her intense pain- a mother’s heart breaking.
She spoke slowly, a river of emotion unwinding. She talked about the qualities of her daughter. A beautiful, patient person. Those memories would bring tears to her eyes. And then she would call: ‘Oh Allah have mercy on her and be kind to her and accept her into your Jannah.’
Then another aspect. Her husband loved her so much. A great man who was devoted to her, especially in her last months when she was in and out of hospital. More tears. ‘Oh Allah, be pleased with him who loved and honoured my daughter.’
Then another aspect. The grandchildren. The elder boy was in the image of his mother. The pandemic was stopping her from going to see them. ‘Oh Allah I can love them but I cannot replace their mother. So you be their guardian. The closest to them. You protect them. You love them.’
She would speak and when the emotion would overtake her, she would pause and return to the remembrance of Allah ﷻ to pull herself back and change direction.
I listened. That’s all I could do. Sharing in her grief and marvelling at her resilience. This was living proof of:
ۗ أَلَا بِذِكْرِ ٱللَّهِ تَطْمَئِنُّ ٱلْقُلُوب
‘Verily, in the remembrance of Allah do hearts find rest.’ (ar Raad 28)
The Muslim psyche is truly amazing. Iman gives us a framework upon which to hang our thoughts. Those basic thoughts of where we come from, what this life is about and the akhirah all help us understand that inevitable thing called death.
It is a resilience that I do not see elsewhere and I am familiar with death in my line of work. We reconcile the loss with the sure knowledge that the reward of the one who loses a child and remains patient is only Jannah.
My words of consolation as we parted, a hadith.
Abu Sinaan said: I buried my son Sinaan and Abu Talhah al-Khulani was sitting at the graveside. When I wanted to go he took my hand and said: “Shall I not give you some glad tidings, O Abu Sinaan?” I said, “Yes.” He said: “… the Messenger of Allah ﷺ said: “When a person’s child dies, Allah says to His angels, ‘You have taken the child of My slave.’ They say, ‘Yes.’ He says, ‘You have taken the fruit of his heart.’ They say, ‘Yes.’ He says, ‘What did My slave say?’ They say, ‘He praised you and said “Inna lillahi wa inna ilayhi raji’oon.” Allah says, ‘Build for My slave a house in Paradise and call it bait al hamd (the house of praise).’” (Tirmidhi)
May Allah ﷻ fill the emptiness left in every parent’s heart with His love and reunite them in His eternal jannah. Ameen.
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