This blog is all about my little sister, Asma, who lost her life in the battle against cancer on February 11, 2005 at the age of 12.

All About My Baby Sister, Asma

Feel free to pass this blog along to others, Insha'Allah. (To read the very first post/entry, click on "February 2005" under "Archives" and scroll all the way to the bottom and you should see the first entry). Please keep my parents and family in your dua'as. Jazak'Allah. May Allah reward all of you and keep you guys on the straight path. Ameen May Allah reunite us with Asma once again. Ameen

Monday, May 09, 2005

Saturay, February 12, 2005: Last Kiss and the Final Meeting

Assalaamualaikum Warahmutallahi Wabarakatuh,

Part I

I woke up around 5:45 AM. My mom had woken me up. I look up and all the lights were on. It felt so wierd. I couldnt believe my sister was gone.

I get up with this weird feeling. It was the feeling of being alone...feeling of being depressed.

I walk out of my room to my parents room. All the lights are on. My mom had just taken a shower. My father was sitting on his bed where Asma used to sleep. He was crying. He was bawling. He was looking for her. He was asking where she had gone. He kept saying how she left us.

I went and took a shower. I got ready. The sun had already risen. My chacha (my dad's younger bro) was at hour house. My mamoo (my mom's younger bro) was there as well. Few minutes later, Humera came to our house. She knows my mom and has met Asma a few times.

Around 7:30 we left and headed to the funeral home, Brust Funeral Home, to give my doll, Asma, a ghusl. It took us about 30 minutes to get there. We finally got there. It was so wierd. The fact that I was just outside the building where Asma was in didnt seem real.

We go in. We were met by the worker at the funeral home. He was also the one who led the funeral procession.

Soon, these two elderly Muslimahs came and greeted my mom. They were crying. They hugged my mom and made dua'a.

The worker led us to the room where Asma was kept in. It was a small, cold room.

There she was...in a stretcher right next to the white ceramic washing table. She was partly covered with a sheet over her. My heart was beating fast and was anxious to see her.

My parents, Aysha, and I all walked over to her. I noticed her leg was bent. It wasnt straight. I freaked out. I was thinking how would I be able to straighten it out again since its probably stiff and hardened.

My mom and I walk over and uncover her. We slowly try to straighten her leg. To our surprise, her leg is as soft as it can ever be. It straightened without any problems.

I look at her. She looked so peaceful. Shes very beautiful. She had this unique scent/fragrance coming from her. I just bent over and hugged her and held her in my arms. I kissed her. I cried. :'( I never felt so alone before. The thought of letting her go was killing me.

Her casket was sitting on a cart with wheels on the side of the room. We had placed the Kafn in the cakset so we can just put her in and wrap her with Kafn. My father and I were told to leave the room so they can go proceed with the ghusl.

We wanted to make sure the ghusl was according to nothing but the Quran and Sunnah of Prophet Muhammad Salallahu Alaihi Wasalam.

There were a total of five people who gave Asma a ghusl. It was my mother, my sister Aysha, Humera, and these two other Muslimahs who came from the local masjid to help us out. May Allah reward them. Ameen

I walked downstairs with my father in the waiting area. My chacha and mamoo were sitting there. We sat down.

I turn to my father and asked what if Asma was mad at me. As I cried, I told him I didnt have a chance to ask Asma for forgiveness. He asked me if Im nuts. He said that Asma was very happy with me and was very close to me. I guess that helped me a bit.

My father continued to talk about Asma with my chacha and mamoo. I was getting phone calls from people so I stepped by the front door to talk. Everyone was calling me about the time and location of the Janazah.

About an hour, hour and half passes by and my father and I are called to help push the casket out to the main viewing area.

We went up there. We waited for a few minutes while they did the final touches. My father and I exhanged memories of Asma and talked and laughed a little bit while we thought about Asma and our memories of/with her.

They finally opened the door. I got up and we walked over to the room. Everyones face was red and were teary-eyed. I can tell they were all crying when washing Asma.

My father, my mother, myself and I think my mamoo and chacha helped push the casket out to the floor. I opened up the casket.

There she was. Shes very beautiful and gorgeous. She looked so pretty in her Kafn. The Kafn was placed in a way so that it also covered her hair and acted like a hijab. Subhana'Allah.

She smelled so beautiful. Masha'Allah. I have never smelled something so nice before. Subhana'Allah.

It was very emotional. We were all sad and crying.

The viewing was only for the family (including the extended family) members. We didnt want anyone else to see her. We had the Quran playing in the background.

As time went by, more and more people were coming.

We would cry often. We would cry and then stop crying. This cycle happened all throughout the time.

My mom was sitting on the bench-like sofa and wad all depressed. She was surrounded by other my mom's sisters, in-laws, Aysha, and Humera. Her friends were there too.

She wanted to see Asma before we closing the casket. She would slowly walk towards Asma as sisters were following her. As she was near Asma, she stops.

All of a sudden, she bursts into tears and was crying. Few seconds later, she starts to fall and is losing conscious. She is falling foward. Alhadmulillah I was there to help her. I was in front facing her so I held on to her. However, I need help.

I yelled out to my older bro, "BHAIJAN...BHAIJAN...BHAIJAN...JALDI SE IDHAR AO. AMMI KO PAKRO!" ("BRO...BRO...BRO...HURRY COME HERE. HOLD MOM!").

He comes running and holds her from the back. He picks her up from the back by her arms and I hold her from the front.

We carry her back to the couch. We set her down. She faints. We are all worried and dont know what to do. There is a huge chaos.

Someone takes some water and splashes it in her face. Someone also lightly taps my mother on the face. She wakes up. Alhamdulillah.

She was just sitting there expressionless. She was motionless. She didnt even blink. Literally. I think thats when the shock really set in.

No one knew what to do. Humera then takes a lighter and lights it up. She placed it under my mom's nose. My mom all of a sudden snaps out of it and looks around. She blinks and shakes her head a little bit.

I was sitting to her right. She turns to me and asks, "Wo chali gai?" ("Is she gone?")

I was sitting there surprised. I didnt know what to say or how to answer that. What do I say? Do I say "Yes" and give her another shock or do I lie and say "No" and give her false hopes?

I didnt know what to do. So I just thought for a few seconds and while smiling, I responded by saying, "Wo apne naye gahr me chali gai." ("She went to her new home.")

She didnt say anything then.

She just wanted to get up again and walk over to see Asma again as we were about to leave soon. She gets up and continues to slowly walk over to Asma. This time, my older brother and I were hold my mom from each side and helping her make her her way.

She finally got up close to Asma. She wanted to touch and kiss Asma. There people there telling my mom not to do that.

I thought to myself, "What the hell? Why not?"

So my father told my mom to ahead and kiss her. I was ready to push people away if they tried to stop my mom from kissing her. My mom kisses her and touches before we were about leave.

I kiss her as well. So did my father, brothers, and Aysha. It was a very emotional time. Wow Subhana'Allah.

We cover her face and close the casket. We all headed out the door to our cars. Islamic Foundation is no more than 10 minutes from Brust Funeral Home. In my van, its my parents, Asyha, Humera, and Almas aunti (I used to drop Asma off to Almas aunti's house to read Quran). Everyone followed me.

Part II

We arrive at the masjid. We pray Dhuhr. There was one other deceased at the masjid.

After we prayed Dhuhr, friends come and embrace us especially my father. Many people know my father around here.

I come out to get Asma out of the hearse (funeral home car which carries the deceased). My cousins and uncles were there.

I had told the driver of the hearse in advance not to take her out until I was there.

So they were waiting for me. I went there to the Caravan hearse. The driver took out the cart for us to place the casket on. Then we rolled the casket inside. As we entered the lobby of the masjid, we used the elevator to go down into the basement of the masjid where the Salat-ul-Janazah was going to be held.

ALLAHU AKBAR! I had never seen so many people at a Salat-ul-Janazah before. There must have been around 700 people. I was amazed and surprised to see the count.

Everything was ready and set to go. However, there was a small dispute.

Some guy comes up and tells my father to let the Imam of the masjid lead the prayer.

My dad was like, "Why? Shes my daughter and I will be the one to lead the prayer. If the Imam or the son of the the deceased lady wants to lead the prayer, thats perfectly fine, but I will lead the prayer for my daughter."

The guy was like why are you doing this? Just let it go.

My dad was getting angry. The son of the deceased lady said that he wanted my dad to do it as well.

So, my dad explains the procedure and then led the prayer for both of the deceased at the same time.

After that, my family and the sisters including the women that didnt know us, tried to look at Asma for the very last time.

Everyone got a chance to look at her. My mom's best friend, Parveen aunty, came from Florida to see Asma. She was crying so much.

Everyone got a chance to see Asma. Then, my family got the last chance to look at Asma again. We kissed her. Again, people were trying to stop my mom from kissing Asma. I was getting mad.

I mean her daughter is going away forever and here she is trying to kiss her and touch her while people are keeping her from doing just that. I made sure, however, that my mom got to do that.

We all kissed her goodbye for the very last time. I told myself it would be the very last time I would kiss her. Few seconds later, I stopped them from closing the casket so I could give Asma more kisses. This time, I sort of took my time.

We finally wrapped covered her face again and closed the casket. We pushed her casket towards the elevator and made our way out the masjid through the door. My mom was crying so much. She couldnt help it.

Part III


So as we came outside, we put Asma in the hearse. The driver explained the directions and the procedure to us.

I got my parents, Aysha, Humera, and Parveen aunty in my van. Shortly afterwards, we got in line behind the hearse. People had already started to form a line behind the hearse. However, they stopped the traffic in the parking lot and made room for me so that I was able to get behind the hearse. The hearse was on the otherside of the parking lot so I had to drive a little bit to get there cutting through cars.

After a few minutes, we started to leave. We had to be going about 20 mph the whole way.

Subhana'Allah, I was speechless. I had never seen a procession so long. The procession was literally about 2-3 miles long.

It was so long that the police had to come and block the traffic so the procession wouldnt be disrupted.

Subhana'Allah, people were amazed. They have never seen anything like that either.

The procession was about 40 minutes long.

We arrived at the cemetery. Her grave was already dug and the workers were waiting.

Her grave was right by the pathway. Literally, some one can park their car right by her grave. Her grave was in the Muslim section of the cemetery. Asma's grave is the second one in the Muslim cemetery.

We parked and got out. All the Muslimahs were in the cars. We opened the door of the hearse and took out Asma's casket. All the brothers got around and wanted to carry her casket. We all took turns doing it.

We placed the casket onto the cart with belts that is used to lower the deceased into the ground.

Everyone was just standing around the Asma's grave. I was just looking down as I stood besides my father. I couldnt believe it. It slowly settling in. Subhana'Allah, something I will never ever forget. I still remember my father and how he was crying silently. Everyone had grief on their face; even people that didnt know Asma.

They slowly lowered her into the ground. Once they did that and removed the cart from the site, it was time to put the dirt over the casket to bury her.

I started off by taking a shovel. I shoveled the dirt three times and handed it over to some one else.

After I handed the shovel over, I started to walk way from the grave. As I did, I all of a sudden started to cry. I bursted into tears and started to cry. Next think I knew, I was on my hands and knees on the ground. I couldnt believe it. Something was happening to me.

All I could see was people running toward to help me. I didnt look up. I was looking down. I saw a bunch of shoes around me. Everyone was around me. I still remember a brother was trying to comfort me.

He said, "Brother, why are you crying?? Are you crying because she passed away or because you miss her?"

As I cried, I replied, "I miss her so much. Shes gone and I miss her."

He replied back and said, "Brother, be happy for her. Shes grants Jannah, Insha'Allah. Shes out of pain. You really think she wants her brother to be sad?"

What he said made sense. I dont doubt that. However, the emotional attachment that I had with her cant be explained. No one can know how I feel. No one can be her brother.

Same way I dont really know exactly how my parents feel because I dont know what its like to lose a child.

My older brother, Talha ran to the van in which my mom was in. He got a gallon of water and a plastic cup. He gave me water to drink.

He told me to stop crying because my mom was watching me from the van and was freaking out. He told me that my mom was going crazy and didnt know what to do.

He told me that my mom was worrying because she couldnt do anything for me and I was in such a bad state.

I finally got a hold of myself and stopped crying...or atleast controlled it.

All the dirt was over the casket. She was buried. She was laid to rest.

People made dua'a for her and the family. There was also a short speech given by a brother, Ashfaq Maqsood, my dad's friend. People were moved by it. People were scared of death and wanted to change. ALLAHU AKBAR.

Slowly, people embraced my father and I and my brothers. They started to leave. Soon, we were the last ones. I was the last one to come. I sat briefly by Asma's grave and made dua'a for her and the rest of the family.

We left. I took pictures of her grave before driving off.

We soon got home. The cemetery is about ten minutes away from my house. It soon became night time and we were all alone again...

...another night without Asma. Something we had to deal with. She isnt coming back.

I love her so much. Shes my little doll. I will always remember her. She inspired me to do many things...being a good Muslim was one of them.

May Allah Subhanawatalaa grant her the highest level in Jannah. Ameen.

May He reunite us with her. Ameen.

May He give my parents shiffa and sabr. Ameen.

May He give my brothers, Aysha, and myself sabr. Ameen.

May He keeps us all on the straight path and clear our hearts of evil and fitnah. Ameen.

May He instill knowledge in our hearts and allow us to act up on the Quran and Sunnah of Prophet Muhammad Salallahu Alaihi Wasalam. Ameen.

I love you Asma...

Assalaamualaikum Warahmutallahi Wabarakatuh.

 
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