And then he died…

Yesterday I was in the grocery store. It was a hard day for me because it rained and when it rains it makes me more depressed. Of course I make dua for my son but those grey days arent easy days. I had been crying and you could tell. Sometimes it happens like that. Im walking down the street and Im passing the playground that my son died in and grief overtakes you. The sense of loss for yourself overwhelms and you cry. 

So I cried and this lady that I know vagurely from the laundromat asked me what happened. And I get asked that a lot.

What happened to him. Well its simple. 

One day Alhaarith went to school here in Queens and after school he played some 1 on 1 with his friends.  By all accounts he played 3 hard games. He beat his friend Edwin out by 6 points. After he had played he was dribbling the ball…throwing some free shots(or whatever its called) and Dihyah(My 12 yr old) called out to him that he was about to go home.

Haarith said hold on a minute Im bout to come too and then he gasped and dropped to the floor. Dihyah says that he was shaking and breathing very heavily. This was probably agonized breathing that occurs after a cardiac arrest. Dihyah said he tried to do CPR like he saw on TV and called me. I got the call at 3pm that something had happened to Haarith. I thought it was just a school fight or something but all day I had been anxious about Haarith. In the morning he had left for school without saying goodbye. He had his state tests that day and he wanted to be on time. I remember wanting to run after him to tell him to come straight home from school. At about 1pm Dihyah called me to tell me that he didnt feel well. It was only another 90 minutes until school ended, and I didnt feel like walking up to the school with a sick 3 year old to get Dihyah out…so I told him to wait till school was over and come straight home. I remember thinking that I should get him and get Haarith at the same time but I didnt.

By 2.30 I was pacing up and down in the house. I wanted Haarith to sit with the sick 3 yr old . I wasnt feeling right that day at all. I was feeling sick so by 2.45pm I was getting mad…thinking ugh..why doesnt he come straight home from school. Usually Haarith would come home at 2.35pm…so when I got the phone call…I knew it was bad.

I got to the school around 3.15 and by then I knew it was bad. There were kids watching someone on the playground and as I got closer..I knew it was my sons body laying still. I screamed. I knew he was dead. They were intubating him but there was no pulse.

I was able to sit in the ambulance with him while they waited for the paramedics to bring a defibrillator but I knew he was gone. My lovely chunky monkey(as I used to call him ) was still even with the shock. It was surreal.

At the Emergency room…i was taken to a separate conference room. There was so many people there. It was crazy. Police, School safety officers. Traffic cops, Doctors coming in and out. Department of Education liason. It was crazy, One woman came in and said that there was a slight pulse. I breathed at that point and started thinking about brain damage as I knew that he had lacked oxygen for a long time. I knew he would have brain damage at the very least but they had given me hope.

After what seemed like forever, the door opened and two doctors came into the room. I knew it was bad by the way that they were walking. They looked at me and said..we couldnt save him. He had suffered brain death. It was so technical.

The room got very quiet and I looked at all these faces and I said in this voice that sounded so british….Is this a joke? My son? Mine? Dead? Huh? and they nodded and I remmeber it was so quiet. Subhan Allah.

I told them I wanted to see my son and as I was taken to the Peds ER I saw the faces of all the moms in that place. They looked scared and stricken. In the room next to where my son lay was a mother who was gripping onto her chld. I guess they all heard the commotion and knew that there was a serious trauma.

I went to the room and there I saw my son laid on a bed. He still had the intubation tube in his mouth still. I looked at him and I said IM going to cradle him in my arms one last time. I went to pull him up and this sound came out of his mouth. A soft ahhh sound and I jumped up and said did you hear that…hes alive…check him check him. The doctor took out her tools to check his eyes and she said…no hes dead. 

Thats when I lost it. I cried like I never cried before. I cried for all the injustice. All the oppression. I cried for all the pain. I cried for all the hardships that Id endured and I cried for my loss. I cried for the loss of my oldest son. My golden child. The one that I used to talk to like we were friends and worried that we were too much like friends. The one who said he wanted to buy me a house when he was older (I told him his happiness was enough for me) I cried like a baby and as I cried…I rubbed all my tears into his face. I traced his body with my hands. I rubbed his feet. His hands. His head. I kissed him so many times. I can still smell his smell. I hugged him and I cried. Subhan Allah. Meanwhile my phone was going off. It was Dihyah at home with the baby. He wanted to know what was going on. I had to pull out whatever strnegth I had and told him wait till i got home.

I looked at my son and knew that there was nothing else I could do for him. Nothing else but I knew I had 3 boys at home who were waiting for me. Waiting to know and I had to be the one to tell them. I kissed my sons still warm body and started that long journey home. That was it. That was what happened. Nothing. Just that.

My son lived for 14 years and died at the end of his 14th year on this planet. He died the day before his 14th birthday. 

The autopsy came up undetermined natural causes because cardiac death is a natural death. My son probably had an enlarged heart. There no symptoms for this other than death. Thats what the cardiologist said. Its hard to comprehend that my son who looked healthy…was so sick that he died. Thats the reality. My son was sicker than most kids his age but we never knew it. His sickness overtook him. What was written for him overtook him .

My son went to school on Wednesday the 11th of March 2009…and then he died.

Marriage 90’s Styling

Do you know how hard it is to move on from a bad relationship? It has to be one of the hardest , most unrewarding things in the world. I was doing a bit of self reflection today and thinking about why a bad relationship can dictate the kind of people we end up on being. Im sure youve heard the old saying that a woman can get hurt over and over and bounce on back but hurt a man and Lord Have Mercy every one has to pay for the crime of that first heartache.Whether thats right or wrong..Its damn hard moving on from a bad relationship. So often you lose yourself in the process and accumulate yet another bag of broken trusts, memories and insecurities. Its even worse when you have children.In Islam when a marriage breaks down the children are supposed to go to the father when the mother gets remarried and/or the children get old enough. This makes perfect sense to me because its always harder for a man to accept another mans children than it is for a woman. Its more natural for a woman to connect with someones elses children than for a man. When I became a practicing muslim..one of the biggest fears that sisters had was losing their children. It was the ultimate threat to quiet the nagging wife. Noone wanted to lose their kids and everyone believed that the man was serious. If they divorced then he was taking his kids. In those times we were all married…first wives, second wives and so on and so forth.

Looking back I see that was “yet another empty threat”. The majority of women I knew back in the 90’s got divorced and at this time are…yup…raising their children. What happened to the legiions of men that were going to snatch their children? The ones who werent going to have “another nigga raising their seed?” Funny haha or Funny peculiar. The truth is that hardly any of the brothers actually took custody of their children.

I guess it was easier for them to move on and remarry. Try again with another fresh young thing ..the ability to do it right “this time” The problem was that there was way too many first times.

The Prophet said that there was three things that shouldnt be taking lightly….Marriage(An- Nikkah), Divorce(At-Talaq) and Taking Back after Divorce (Ar-Rujua’).

I think it this was branded on the male forehead then theres would be less jest made when it comes to marriage. Some people claim that the East Coast has the record of hit and run marriages. I dont agree. I believe that hit and run marriages are predominant ALL over the revert communities and I mean ALL reverts(Those that reverted from Jahiliyah and Nonpracticing Islam)

Brothers were going crazy with all the potential wives. I mean think about it. If you knew a few hadeeths then you would be seen as knowledgeable to a woman that didnt know squat. You could persuade her to marry you just to satisfy her need for sex or explain to her how you needed to fulfil half your deen.Back in the day sisters were selling themselves for a dream. Some sisters would ask for a rose as Dowry. Some would get a book. I know of some that asked to learn a hadeeth. That shyt was wild. I used to always look at the sisters who did this like they were crazy. How in the world did you sell yourself for a rose. I know we were seen as western “loose” women pre Islam but Islam corrected that for us. We were worth more than $20(as some were married for).

Such was the times back then when hadeeths were used as weapons against one of us. If a sister asked for a sum of money larger than $1000 she was seen as greedy and the hadeeth of the iron ring was wielded in front of her….It was madness so it was no wonder the brothers were hitting it then running. No race was free from that. I know sisters that were divorced post wedding night because they were too fat. I always wondered if any brothers were divorced because they were impotent!

It just seems to me that back then marriage was seen as a easy convenience but noone really thought about the kids that came at the backs of these marriages.

You see trying to find a husband with kids is not easy.Not a lot of men want to take on a woman with children. I remember having sitdowns with brothers who insisted that I gave my kids up BEFORE marriage. I wasnt having that. To me you better prove yourself worthy.