My late father’s passing came unexpectedly. Right till this moment, my breath still feels heavy occasionally when I think about him.

From the past several months of managing his passing and continuing living, I will say that healing had never been the goal, it is rather the process. And living with his absence is that which mattered more. Because I do not know what it will look like to be “healed”. The loss of a loved one is a personal experience which I am still currently living through, processing, reflecting on from time to time, moment to moment.

Being with it

I try to be with my emotions as it comes up, that means not suppressing them or distracting myself from them but sitting with them. Thus, I let myself cry, be it alone, at home or at work, or sometimes while commuting. Sometimes the crying is the kind that makes you tired by the end of it, other times a wave of sadness comes by and my eyes get glassy and I leave it as that.

What I have learnt is that this emotional experience and that of other experiences is complex, nuanced, and layered. It’s not always sadness and grief. I wrote this a few days after my dad passed on, basically a spectrum of feelings I had felt and was feeling.

Grief. Sad. Shock. Regret. Lonely. Calm. Content. Grateful. Clueless. In denial. Vulnerable. Touched. Blessed. Afraid. Anxious. Paralyzed. Heavy. Overwhelmed.

And the thing about emotions, is that they are sometimes light, other times heavy, they pass, and some might return. Thus, I reminded myself, that all feelings are welcome. There is no one way to feel about this.

I encourage myself and you to explore and consider this, not just in healing when losing a loved one but with other experiences as well.

What if now is enough? What if you don’t have to look any further than the present moment? What if you tell yourself you can sit with everything that you are experiencing/feeling now and that states are temporary?

“Take your time to grieve” were the words of an ex-colleague.

It is true, there is no rush. Neither is there any timeline or place to reach in this phase. This means going through the moments, continuing with life, with all that. This means trying to carry on with life, even though it’s incredibly hard on some days.

A non-linear process

While I always try to understand what I feel and why I feel that way, other times I still don’t feel like it. Of course, it is not easy. And I need not let people know that I’m fine when I’m not, or to show others that I’m really okay when it’s not the case. I can just be real and truthful and not put up a strong front all the time. Basically, I can give myself the permission to be human.

Also, it is not just my own grief to process, but it was also watching my mother in her grief that was tough. Yet Allah being Most Kind and Loving, graciously gifted her with beautiful patience and fortitude which I am still in awe of. And we all want that. An unwavering faith and deeply rooted patience that only manifests in a content “Innalillahi wa inna ilaihi rojiun” as we gradually let go of all that which belongs to Him. And we all belong to Him.

Perhaps, when we lose a loved one, especially unexpectedly, there might be unresolved issues or regrets. And one thing we can do is to ask Allah to forgive us and to open doors for us to do good to try to make up for our shortcomings.

Holding by a good opinion of Him

Allah has gently reminded us through this, that His Decree has come into place. Not only that but also in the subtle way He arranges matters. And with every trial, it is only to redirect ourselves to Him.

Only my younger brother and I were there with my father when he lost consciousness, and we were at a loss. My mum verbalised her realization that if both my older brother and she were there at that point in time, they being nurses themselves, would have tried to resuscitate him. I couldn’t imagine the scene, and how distraught they might be if they knew they tried, and they couldn’t save him. And Allah knows best.

Recently, I have learnt the meaning behind a duá that our Prophet s.a.w taught us to recite which is

رضيت بالله ربا وبالاسلام دينا

وبمحمد صلى الله عليه وسلم نبيا ورسول

An ustaz provided a commentary on this and said that having redha(contentment) with Him as our Lord also means to have redha with what He gives us of tests and blessings. That in our life that we’re living, we ought to oscillate between patience and gratitude.

Patience with what we cannot yet fully comprehend, the hidden blessings yet to be unearthed. Gratitude for every single thing, and in my case, from how he passed on a Friday after his Asar prayers, for the fact that he was able to spend time at home due to his job termination due to Covid and thus was able to lead prayers for the family, for witnessing my mother’s strength and patience, for supportive family and friends.

Remember their footprints

What has also been helpful in this process is to remember their footprints- the lessons and goodness that they have modelled and imparted.

My father was always a hospitable host to our guests, young and old. He always mentions his family and his grandsons by name, in his prayers. He was caring and loving in the ways he could. Thus, we try to honour him in the ways that we can, through the times that we still ‘see’ him.

For example, when the light bulb blew, and I removed it, that reminded me of him, as he was the one who always did these “practical” things for the family. My younger brother honoured him by cooking up “Roti John”, a dish that my father loved to make and was good at.

Insya Allah, we intend to continue to do all that which he would have willingly and patiently did. And we intend to be better sons and daughters, intend the reward of every good deed that Allah allows us to do for him, and to always remember him in our prayers.

May we be gentle with our ourselves in our grief, and may Allah swt have mercy on all souls, the living and the dead, and may we all be blessed with a beautiful ending.