Monday, June 20, 2011

Beautiful Girl

It's music.

The words don't all make sense; the way that feelings don't all make sense.

The video is only half-visible with lots of unanswered questions. Yet, I see the charm bracelet and I see the bare feet running out and I see me. At different times with different people, I've been this woman.


In many ways, I don't know who I am.

It's not the crazy searching for identity I had at age 30-something. Now, at 40-something, I am calmly entering into a new phase of fine-tuning me. I am that instrument which is almost playing correctly, yet I know that something isn't quite right. I need the trip ahead of me to go back and see who I wanted to be.

Where did I fail?

Where have I succeeded.

Subhanallah, who have I loved?

I knew my mother would greet me at her door. My children would come and visit me. What I just learned is that my father would be sent from his home in the south to my hometown in the north.

I have not seen my father in five years. I have divorced, married, divorced and married since the last time I saw him. I had a baby in my arms that Spring and now this summer I have this little soccer player strumming a guitar. Before, I was able to connect with the man I've always known and this time, with his Alzheimers, I'm not sure how much of that man remains.

What remains in anyone or anything for me?

This music isn't perfect. There is, however, something halting and haunting in it. I listen to it and hope that I'm moving from a place of half to a place of full.

May Allah protect us in all our journeys.

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