Thoughts on Bereavement and Eid

A friend called me yesterday to pay her condolences and see how I was. Sometimes a gesture that seems small to the doer can be so significant for the person on the receiving end. For the last few days I have been wondering why I haven’t been grieving in the way I thought I would. I haven’t cried over my gran’s passing, I haven’t even felt as sad as I should. Perhaps because she had a good innings mash’Allah and a peaceful end. Perhaps because I am not left with any regrets – we got on fabulously and I did what I could to make her happy and comfortable. Perhaps it hasn’t sunk in or perhaps Allah (SWT) in his infinite mercy is making this whole time easier for me. In any case, my friend advised that I shouldn’t think about what I should be feeling, but just go with how I feel and let myself feel that way.

In any case, when I went to my mum’s house today, the lights were off and the house locked up. It felt so strange; she was a constant presence and always minded the phone and the door at a stretch. It was as if the life had gone out of the house. It spooked me a little as I had never seen mum’s house like this.

I had expected to spend Eid quietly at home (Eid to me is defined by my better half and he is in Pakistan with my parents, so I am bereft), but the rest of the family has rallied around and we will be spending the day together. Little Lady is insisting we must celebrate. I explained to the children that Gran was in heaven now with Allah (SWT) and Little Lady exclaimed “Will she be young like you then? Will she beautiful?” They seem to be quite pleased with this turn of events although Little Man and Gorgeous have still been making trips up to her room to see her and cadge sips of her ginger beer.

So I thought it would be nice to have a simple, quiet Eid without presents, expensive clothes or lavish food, but just getting together, laughing together and eating good home-cooked fare insh’Allah.