Monday, August 4, 2008

Praying, Playing, and Crying


Just about ready to pray.

I've got internet.

I've got dishpan hands.

I've got Mr. Boo in the living room with his father.
I cried today right before my older kids left with their dad. We had had a great visit. My son (my super huge son) was trying to get a picture of me on his cell phone. He was doing the Austin Powers photographer instructions and it did make me smile and laugh and then cry. Sadness just came over me.

My big son sat on one arm of the deck chair and my daughter on the other and Mr. Boo came up and said, "It will be alright, Mommy."

Mr. Boo's father was there, sitting on the patio with us, and watched the whole thing.

It's hitting me today. The enormity. The aloneness. The melancholy.

My things are arriving in boxes everyday; these huge cardboard cubes which testify of where I have been.

I was in Florida.

I was.

I was married.

I was.

I believed that I would be married forever to that man.

I did.

That's why I sent everything down to him.

And now it's all coming back...or at least a lot of it is. Somethings you can't keep.

It's that hope; that trust in the future that I am having a tough time with today. Trust in the future is really trust in God. I need to find that within me. I have it still, but it's injured.

Truly, it's tough for me to understand how I can have men absolutely love me and love my children and yet I don't have a husband. I don't have a family. I don't have a home.

Subhanallah!

I'm in a home now, even if it's not my home. I'm in the kitchen typing this as I hear my little son and his father playing in the other room.

Praying is all done in the livingroom.

I can't pray with the man who brought me to Islam. I can't even take off my hejab with him. Can't be alone in the same part of the house as him. If I was very strict, I wouldn't be in the house alone at all with him.

Mr. Boo refused with screaming, kicking, and crying to pray with his father.

Mr. Boo used to ask to pray with his Baba. He used to get the prayer mat and say, "Come on, Baba! Let's pray!"

I'll pray alone in my room and inshahallah get focused again.

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