Saturday, June 24, 2017

Day 28 Ramadan 2017

Ramadan Kareem,

This picture illustrates how I felt when I woke up.  I woke in the worst way around 2:00.  My downstairs neighbors, my husband's brother and his wife, were yelling about something and their smallest child was screaming.  I woke in a kind of alarmed state.  I got out of bed to see my husband in the salon and he wasn't there.  I rang his mobile scared of where he was and what had happened to him.

Because it's Ramadan, and everyone's schedule is OFF---like it flew off the merry-go-round and landed on the ground bruised and bewildered---my husband was just hanging out with his buddy down the street.  If I had looked out the window, I would have seen him.  However, I didn't see him and I felt awful that he wasn't home.

When he did get home, I wasn't happy.  It's hard to start the fast while still having a bad disconnection to people around you.



He wanted an omelette for suhour.  I was still in a grumpy mood.  Let's just say, it wasn't the nicest omelette I've ever made for him.

For El Kid and myself, I made toasted aish baladi with domty cheese and cucumber slices.  This was followed by the remnants of the cake topped with yogurt and peach slices.  It was A LOT of food, but I had been feeling low on energy and thought food could cure this.  SPOILER:  It didn't.  I was tired all day.



We had to pray fast or we were going to lose El Kid to sleep.  He went back to bed A.S.A.P.  I stayed up long enough to check around the 'net for life outside of this house.  I haven't been out since Tuesday.

I didn't sleep that well.  Eating and drinking a lot means...well, you know.  There were some trips to the bathroom that interrupted what could have been good sleep.  My plan had backfired---like literally.

Eventually, I had to be up and busy with my day.  I had an improvement idea on those plastic file cases that were always falling apart.  I punched holes and put in brass brands.  It's such a geeky teacher project, but it made me happy.

I then chose the picture books to take up north this August.  I can't take them all!  I tucked in many of my favorites.  Here are a few I had to bring:

Sylvester and the Magic Pebble
Little Bear
A House for Hermit Crab
Flap Your Wings
Jessie Bear
The Big Orange Splot
Farmer Duck
Where the Wild Things Are

I filled up four files with books and then placed the files on the shelves.  It's time to plan and prepare, but not yet time to go.
In the meantime, I have other things to do, like two loads of wash.

While I was doing all this, my husband was reading Quran in the big, comfy chair.  I heard him say, "Sadaqa Allahu Adeem" and looked up.  He was smiling.

"Did you finish Quran?"


I always like this moment.  I like that we share it in a way.  He is the man committing his life to following his faith.  Yes, he is the same man who didn't realize how scared I'd be at 2:00 AM.  That's part of who he is.  He's imperfect!  Whenever I become a perfect person, I'll leave him.  Until then, it's the two of us together.



My husband left for Friday prayer at the mosque.  El Kid stayed home.  Nobody even asked him if he wanted to go; we knew he didn't.  The two of us stayed home together and prayed here.

When my husband came home, he was very tired and laid down.  I promised to wake him up so that he could cook dinner later.



After praying asr, it was time to clean up my mess in the salon.  This room is where I work, where we watch TV, read Quran, AND eat.  It's beyond multi-purpose.  There's no room for all that activity and my mess.  I put it away before waking Ahmed up.

Once he was up, I laid down.  I don't like to nap together during Ramadan.  Even good people can be tempted to make mistakes in the month.  It always feels better to avoid togetheness during the fast.


I hadn't read Quran yet because my whole Quran routine had been disrupted by the surahs not being loaded to my tablet.  I didn't really want to read the surahs while listening to mp3s.  I wanted the full experience.  I decided to skip Surahs 8 and 9 and go on  to 10.  I will inshahahallah experience these surahs with the reciter the next time there is wi-fi.  I can't handle everything while I'm fasting.

It was then time to get up and call my mom.  She had picked up the photos from the pharmacy and I wanted to hear what she thought.

She was happy to see the latest pictures of El Kid, "He looks as handsome as hell!"

"MOM!" I admonished with a laugh.  She truly had surprised me with that really American idiom.  I don't say it any more, but I'm sure I did once.  It is so strange, isn't it?  "We say, 'mashahallah'."

She's been good about learning a little Arabic.  She greeted my husband with, "Asalamu Alaykom" when I put him on the phone.  She told him to give me a little kiss.  Ha!  I told her that he'd have to wait until after we broke the fast.

We then talked what was going on in America.  You can't do that with everyone, but usually my mom and I agree on matters.  We talked over the case of Philando Castile.  I have seen every piece of evidence made public and my mom is always surprised that I have the same access (she isn't computer saavy and hasn't figured out the magic of the internet).

Then, she said something stupid.  "Of course a lot of attacks have been made in the name of Allah."

I wasn't very patient with the way our conversation just turned, and answered back, "Are you seeing all the attacks from white extremists?  That's what's really in the news."

My phone minutes went and those 16 minutes were all I got.  I had to husband for one more card.  I couldn't leave my mom like that.  I called her back and we eased away from her perceptions into a goodbye.  What's weird is that if my mom---with fifteen years of having a daughter practicing Islam, and a Muslim grandson---can jump from police killing black Americans during traffic stops to Muslim attacks, then that's messed up.  God bless her for trying to get news from the mainstream media in the U.S.  It's just painful to watch.



My hub was still dishing up food when the call to prayer came.  I tried to feed him a date, but he wasn't having it.  We prayed together.


We ate the kofta and rice, salad, and some frozen cheese sambusas I'd bought last week.  Everyone dove into the sambusas.  Their cheese leaked out something terrible; very unlike the ones I'd made before, but the cheese had a better flavor and consistency.  I wish I could duplicate that cheese mix!



I fell asleep on the couch.  I was so tired.  My son was livid.  He was so mad at me for falling asleep.  He was even mad that I wasn't snoring!  He said that it made it hard for him to know whether or not I was alive.

This was another hard way to wake up.

I was tired and groggy and getting yelled at my an eleven-year-old.  I cried.  I was just worn out from not feeling well all day and then having this Twilight Zone episode take place in my living room.

I tried to explain that feeling so tired like I did was like him sneezing.  No one could stop him from sneezing; he just had to do it.  I had been working all day and feeling ill.  He'd been playing all day.  Difference!  I wanted him to grow some compassion, but he wasn't having it.

I got up and left and did some tasks.  Then, I prayed.  By the time I was done with the prayer, my husband was home.  My son doesn't try out so much tough guy talk when my husband (and the ship-ship) is around.

I brought out the Eid cookies and the grapes.  El Kid did his prayer and then told me that he'd asked Allah to forgive him.  I told him that he might want to tell me he was sorry too.  We played the game Battleship and had a good time.  He won.

We all won because we all did what could to get through another day fasting in Ramadan.

1 comment:

Umm Abdullah said...

Assalaamu Alaykum

Sister Yosra, Eid Mubarak to you and your family. In shaa Allaah hope you all have a wonderful time.


Umm Abdullah
ps: Jazaak Allaah khayran for the ramadaan series - maa shaa Allaah I enjoyed reading it.