''When a believer passes away''

Inna lillahi wa inna ilayhi raji'un  إِنَّا لِلّهِ وَإِنَّـا إِلَيْهِ رَاجِعونَ‎

My grandad. 

On Wednesday the 30th of July I posted a piece about him below. I'm reading it back to myself now and it's just reminding me once again what an amazing man he really was. 

Results day. I get a call from him. ''Assalamu'alaikum Fiyalu'' he says loud and full of joy. Whenever I've called him he's always greeted me with such happiness in his voice, but from there his voice quietens, his energy goes, he can't get the rest of his words out. This was different... 

He congratulates me, saying how proud he is. This is the happiest I've heard him in so long. ''This is the happiest news I've heard in so long'' he says. 

''Mashallah, I am so proud of you''

Little did I know, these would be one of his last words to me. 

I tell him I'm praying for him, praying for god to ease his pain. He's is so much pain. That's his last request. ''Fiyalu, pray for Allah to ease me pain, I'm in so much pain''. 

Friday 15th August: We get a call from my grandma that he's stopped eating, drinking, talking. We make the 3 hour journey and immediately visit him at the nursing home. I approach the door, not sure who I'd see lying on the bed. He's there. A bag of bones. A shell of the man he was. I greet him, hold his hand, I don't let go. I don't want to let go. I try to talk of good things, memories, Kenya. He can't talk but I know he's listening. He is listening. 

My dad, grandma, aunt, mother are all with me. All quiet. Not knowing what to say. He's tired. We leave. 

Sunday 17th August: it's around 10pm, my mum and grandma have gone to visit him, they've gone to recite qur'an. My dad get's a call from them, leaving immediately, he's 'taken a turn for the worst'. They kept saying this: 'a turn for the worst' - what does that even mean? 

It's a waiting game. 

I'm at my grandma's, looking after my cousins whilst the adults read qur'an and surah Yaseen at the nursing home. 3am. They come home. ''He's passed away''. What? ''He's gone''.

Monday 18th August. Their 46th wedding anniversary. My dad  crumbles right infront of me. ''He passed away in my arms, my dad passed away in my arms''. Never have I seen my dad breakdown with so much emotion, and sadness. I don't know what to do. The whole family are here. My grandma. He left her, on their 46th wedding anniversary. She was with him since she was 19. She knows nothing else. 

The rest of the day is blur, a mess, tears, prayers, his face. Never have I had someone close to me pass away. This is my first. For it to be my granddad, is something else. All his children are here. All his grandchildren too. One thing that touched me was how much love we all had for him. He loved each and every one of his kids and grand kids so much, made such a huge impact on each of our lives. We pray, we read, we pray, we read. You can see the amount of noor on his face, subhanallah, he has so much noor on his face, a reflection of his countless nights of prayer, his dedication to the quran and its recitation, his dedication to teach, his love for islam. They take him away. He's gone. 

Tuesday 19th August. His 71st birthday. He didn't make it. He passed away day before his 71st birthday. 

Wednesday 20th August: My grandad loved to write. He had beautiful writing and one thing I know I will miss forever is his birthday cards. Each year he'd write the most beautiful messages in everyone's birthday cards. It was the one thing we all looked forward to. We knew it was our birthday when we'd got that card, received that call, it was his mark. As I was staying in his room, I'd seen he'd kept all our birthday cards to him, dating back to the 2000's. I don't think I've ever cried so much in my life. I don't even know why that made me cry as much as it did, I guess at that moment it just hit me. He's gone. 

My grandad loved to write. Infact, he'd write these little chapters of Islamic knowledge, his writing beautifully displayed across the page, delicately encompassing the words of the quran. He wrote a piece titled ''when a believer passes away'':

''Death is the biggest reality of the universe, and it can approach us at any time''. Those were his words. His way of telling us. He went on to talk about the angel of death, the impact of the quran and how the family should approach it. 

His own way of telling us. Alhamdullilah. 

My grandad. I ask, if anyone reads this, to pray for him, make dua, I pray constantly Allah grants him jannat ul firdous, he was the most pious man with the most unshakable eeman.

 He was my granddad, and I am so lucky to have been his granddaughter. 

Results day.

It's here. 10 hours from now I'll be leaving my house and making that last walk up to my sixth form to collect my results. How do I feel? I'm not sure. These past two years have been a wild rush of emotions, filled with happiness, rejection, acceptance, triumph and constant WORRY. 

One thing I am happy about is how hard I've tried. I genuinely feel like I gave it my ALL. No more preparation, no additional late nights, no extra practice N O T H I N G would have given me that extra edge. Obviously I feel like I could have done more DURING the actual exams, but in terms of preparation I really gave it my all. The thing is, the exam does not for any instance reflect how hard you've worked, how much passion you've had, how much effort you've put in for that subject. Not at all. I know people who have barely tried throughout the two years, yet aced their exams. On the other hand, I know people who have stressed, worried, worked, burdened themselves, yet still not achieved what they deserve. It's subjective. How your exam goes is affected by so many other factors. Maybe the broken sleep you had before will hinder you, or maybe where you sit in the exam hall may put you off. Preparation, although incredibly important, is only a factor. Of course you can do things to increase odds, however that day you sit your exam really does rely on a perfect balance of harmony between you and the questions asked before you.

In my case, I feel my exams generally went well. Better than last year for a fact. The last one in particular, was beautiful, everything I'd wished for. But who knows? I leave it to Gods hands now, I've learnt the moment I firmly believe that he has preordained all matters, it is then, and only then, where I will be at ease.

Tomorrow.

Bring it.

My Plan.

Planning. My whole life has been a plan. Carefully organised, goal oriented and very, highly motivated. I've always been working towards something. It's surprising to myself, now at 18 years, that I've not never stopped. Not even momentarily, I've been so invested in preparing for my future that I've never took the time to appreciate the present. At times, I feel like I need to remind myself I am only 18. I don't NEED to have it all together, and I think last years rejections were a blessing in disguise. I hope this year out gives me that chance, to stop, pause, evaluate and most importantly ENJOY.

What's one year in the grand scheme of things?

I finished school *officially* just over a month ago. What have I done with this time I hear you ask? WELL.

Planning.

Old habits die hard, right? Or so I'm told. I've planned everything down to my potential personal statement for next year, I've read up as much as I can on my course (chemistry) and I've enrolled myself in a YINI scheme in which I HOPE I get a placement for this year.

Come August 14th (results day - slightly panicking as I write) I hope I'll have it together. I'll just relax and take it as it is.

A girl can hope right?

Let's see how this turns out...