May 19th, 1925
a savior born
February 21, 1965
a savior born
February 21, 1965
humanity mourns
Ra7mat Allah 3alayk, Our Shining Black Prince...I miss you.
Monday, May 19, 2008
Sunday, May 18, 2008
Sunday, May 11, 2008
Today and Everyday
Growing up - or growing older is probably more accurate as my immaturity has its shining moments often - I've grown to appreciate everything my mom has done, is doing, and am certain will continue to do everyday. But as wise I think myself to be, I know I will probably never fully grasp the amazingness of my mom until I have kids of own. And probably not even then.
Living away from home, its so easy to get caught up in the mundane lives we lead, running just to keep pace with a world we're so eagerly chasing. So easy to forget the ones who've sacrificed so much to make us the people they hope we are. So easy to pick up the phone just to say "hi, im still here, and i want you to know im ok. you're in my thoughts." Because really, thats all they want. Even though what they deserve is so much more than we are able to give. I'm not really sure where my mindless meandering is going, but its just some thoughts that always invade my mind when this hallmark designated day comes around every year and I see people scrambling to find the perfect gift to show their love for mothers. As if such a gift exists to give to a perfect person.
For the patience, the tough love, the sacrifices.
For reaching in with bare hands and removing the icky stuff that clogs the sink.
For loving when love is least deserved.
For the perfected unwavering death glare that stops you from doing something stupid again.
For teaching you how to throw a shibshib with perfect aim.
For accepting the flaws.
For cooking all your favorite foods when you come back home on your rare visits.
For always reminding you where you come from.
For always knowing - EVERYTHING, especially the stuff we try to hide. (Seriously, mothers always know. It's kinda freaky).
For making the best basboosa ever and not putting coconut in it.
For threatening you your husband will divorce you if you don't get better at housework.
For laughing when you responded "I don't care".
For emailing articles and songs you would like.
For holding burdens heavier than humanity's weight in gold.
For teaching you that it doesn't matter what other people think and do. (this of course translated into grades as well - it doesn't matter that no one got an A, you still should have.)
For not telling dad.
For making my soul rest.
For being the person you hope to be someday.
For proving that women are not as frail and breakable as some may think.
For loving a monkey and seeing a gazelle.
For being the poem I am never able to write...but everything I write is a poem to you.
For teaching me why heaven is under your feet.
For being you.
To all the sitt aldunyas out there...cuz everyday is Mother's Day.
Living away from home, its so easy to get caught up in the mundane lives we lead, running just to keep pace with a world we're so eagerly chasing. So easy to forget the ones who've sacrificed so much to make us the people they hope we are. So easy to pick up the phone just to say "hi, im still here, and i want you to know im ok. you're in my thoughts." Because really, thats all they want. Even though what they deserve is so much more than we are able to give. I'm not really sure where my mindless meandering is going, but its just some thoughts that always invade my mind when this hallmark designated day comes around every year and I see people scrambling to find the perfect gift to show their love for mothers. As if such a gift exists to give to a perfect person.
For the patience, the tough love, the sacrifices.
For reaching in with bare hands and removing the icky stuff that clogs the sink.
For loving when love is least deserved.
For the perfected unwavering death glare that stops you from doing something stupid again.
For teaching you how to throw a shibshib with perfect aim.
For accepting the flaws.
For cooking all your favorite foods when you come back home on your rare visits.
For always reminding you where you come from.
For always knowing - EVERYTHING, especially the stuff we try to hide. (Seriously, mothers always know. It's kinda freaky).
For making the best basboosa ever and not putting coconut in it.
For threatening you your husband will divorce you if you don't get better at housework.
For laughing when you responded "I don't care".
For emailing articles and songs you would like.
For holding burdens heavier than humanity's weight in gold.
For teaching you that it doesn't matter what other people think and do. (this of course translated into grades as well - it doesn't matter that no one got an A, you still should have.)
For not telling dad.
For making my soul rest.
For being the person you hope to be someday.
For proving that women are not as frail and breakable as some may think.
For loving a monkey and seeing a gazelle.
For being the poem I am never able to write...but everything I write is a poem to you.
For teaching me why heaven is under your feet.
For being you.
To all the sitt aldunyas out there...cuz everyday is Mother's Day.
امى ثم امى لحد اخر يوم فى عمرى
Monday, May 05, 2008
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
