As I said before, I'm in my twenties - which means I still live with my parents. (Most American Muslims do at this age and live with their parents until marriage)
I've never known loss.
I lost an uncle when I was ten -- and he was loved within the family. But it never hit me, because I never got to know him.
I lost three of my grandparents even before I was born.
But I hear about loss everyday...
I started crying in class when I heard about Syria's blackout - scared about what might be happening.
I was frightened when fighting intensified in Gaza this past month -- unable to focus on anything else.
I couldn't sleep when the pictures of Palestinian children surfaced over the Internet: dead, hurt, scared.
And, a couple of days ago, a close friend from grade school lost her father. He wasn't sick, and the last time I had a conversation with her was back in middle school. I don't know what to say, how to say it, if I should call/see her in person/what have you. I still haven't given her a call because I simply don't know how to react and if my words will even provide solace to her. And this was a turning point.
It is this fear of losing someone close that brings someone closer to their religion. The sudden loss of my friend's father reminded me about how delicate life is. We hear about loss on the news, feel bad, but go on with our lives.
I've pledged to give my parents a goodnight and goodmorning kiss everyday. And I've also pledged to stop being an annoying brat. Despite the relationship anyone has with their parents -- I think it's important to remember that at least they are still here. At least they can yell at you. I've never been so thankful to hear my mother scream since.
Just a reminder to myself to appreciate those closest to you -- and to show love always.
Caramel
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