All day my feet were dead cold.
It was the day my grandfather passed away. The one where I was woken up to be given this news.
I couldn’t believe he was gone.
I went to his place. I spent the entire day there. I saw him sleeping the eternal sleep, wrapped up in white sheets, back from the hospital.
I listened to my grandmother lamenting that he had left her all alone. I heard everyone exclaim how he had been just fine; two weeks, last night, an hour ago. They bathed him and wrapped him. He looked serene and beautiful as always. But unlike always, he wouldn’t say anything.
All I could do was stare at him from the corner of my eye, while reading the Arabic prayer from the piece of paper in my hand.
Near evening, when they took him to his final resting place, I hugged my mom, my aunt, my sister – told them it’d be okay. Hugged a lot of other ladies; heard them tell me it’d be okay.
I still couldn’t believe he was gone.
And all day, my feet were dead cold. Just like his.
You can’t control everything. In fact, you can’t control anything. Events, people, time. It’s okay. Be patient.
It might seem as if things won’t work out the way you want them to. And when they do, you won’t like it. It doesn’t matter. Be patient.
Sometimes, the day will slow down. It might even come to a complete standstill. It’ll pass. Be patient.
Other times, your head feels like it would explode. That your troubles won’t end. They will. Be patient.
The nights might feel endless. Your eyes will burn with sleep but you will toss restlessly. You can rest tomorrow. Be patient.
Your day will come. Be patient.
I want time to move fast. I want to be able to spend all my time with him. All the days. All the dinners. All the hugs.
I want time to move slow. I want to be able to spend a little more time here with the people I love.
One more day. One more dinner. One more hug.
I will always be the person with her feet in two different boats, going two different ways.
Straightening my back by lying down on the carpet in “my”room, it was eerie to discover there were no cracks in the ceiling.
An entirely different view. AND no cracks. It was all pristine.
Like after a fresh coat of paint. Or a new slate.
Like all my new life.
You need to adjust to different situations. Adjust to people. Adjust to their moods. So be flexible.
Don’t be so principled that you don’t see the negative aspects of your actions. You can’t be blind to the effect you have. So be flexible.
You might not like what other people say. You might say something that other people don’t like. So be flexible.
You’re on your own. It’s not going to be easy. So be flexible.
P. S.: Being flexible in bed should help too.
It is time.
Things are never going to be the same. I am never going to be the same. The thought both excites and terrifies me at the same time.
In this mix of old and new, I get comfort and adventure. Familiarity and exhilaration. Most of the time, I love it. Other times, anxiety tightens its grip around my heart.
Despite this, I don’t think I’d have this any other way. For him and with him, near or far, I can face it all.
I want to face it all. It is time.