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, August 22, 2005

Flashbacks

Assalaamualaikum,

Yup, cant avoid it. School has started again. Its my first day back. I came on and decided to blog because I needed a break and could no longer concentrate.

I have flashbacks of my sister all the time. I have them while Im driving, eating, sleeping, talking, etc. I have them anytime and everytime.

I somehow am able to move on and ignore my flashbacks even when I relive the past in my dreams and nightmares. Sometimes I find myself crying in my sleep, but manage to move on and continue to live.

However, today is different. It all started when I left my house in the morning and got on the highway en route to my school. It was all coming back. I was driving the same van, Toyota Previa, which we specifically bought for Asma, that I sometimes drove to school and to take my sister around in. I was listening to Quran on the CD that I have burned with one of the Surahs being al-Hujarat (same one thats playing in the background in this blog). The morning was nice and crisp with the sun shining. Cant forget the morning dew. It was the same scene as it was five to seven months ago.

That was on my way to school. Once I got to school, it was still the same. I took the same 20 minute walk from my car to the campus. I would think of Asma each and every second. I remember how I used to think of Asma and wondered how she would be feeling while walking to the campus.

Earlier today when I was studying and going over my notes, Asma popped into my head and I was reminded me of her again. I couldnt focus anymore so I decided to come and blog.

I remember how 7 months ago, everyday after class, I would call home and check to see how Asma was doing. I wanted to know if she was having a hard time breathing and whether she was hooked up to the breathing tube and the nebulizer once again or if she was "stable."

Upon hearing about her situation, I would either panic which would cause my heart to beat faster or I would take a deep breath and have a brief celebration and feel a little relieved. There were many times when I thought it would be her last breath.

When going home from school today, I kept thinking of her. I thought about how during her last days when I would come home from school, she would be in bed with her eyes closed hooked up to a breathing tube as she struggled to breathe. She would open her eyes whenever she felt she had enough energy.

Everyday was almost the same. It became more like a routine.

Oh Subhana'Allah, its so hard to be reminded of the feeling that I had experienced when Princess Asma was sick especially during her last days.

I dont want anything that would remind me of it again. I dread going near or even passing a funeral home. Im even afraid of looking at a hearse (the funeral home car). Heck, I dont even feel like going to the masjid where her Salat-ul-Janazah was held. :'(

No matter how hard I try or what I do, I cant avoid those flashbacks. :(

Oh Allah, please protect me flashbacks and thoughts that remind me of the pain and suffering Asma and the rest of the family went through. Ameen.

Oh Allah, please give my parents and the rest of my family shiffa and sabr. Ameen.

Oh Allah, please reunite us with Asma once again. Ameen.

Assalaamualaikum.

Tuesday, August 16, 2005

Is she really gone?

Assalaamualaikum Warahmutallah,

"Wow, is she really gone?"

Thats what I ask myself everyday. So many things remind me of her. Im even having nightmares/flashbacks. Its really driving me nuts. I dont really tell anyone except for a people like my parents and my very close friends. Im afraid I will just burst into tears and cry my lungs out. Sometimes Im scared to talk about my sister and how I miss her. I really wonder many times if I will end up in a mental hospital in the future. I really dont know how my parents do it. Masha'Allah, such great courage and faith in Allah they have.

May Allah reward them. Ameen.
May Allah grant them Sabr. Ameen.
May Allah grant them Jannah and raise their status to the highest one. Ameen.
May Allah forgive them and keep them on the straight path. Ameen.

Whenever I go to the cemetery to visit her, I sometimes am left bewildered. I mean I never in a million years would have thought that Asma would die and I would lose her.

Its pretty uncanny to see her name written on her grave marker. There it is...her grave marked by a marker with her name, "Asma Haq" followed by the dates reading, "Oct. 9, 1992 - Feb. 11, 2005."

Subhana'Allah, can you believe it? Shes gone. Shes history. Shes forever gone. :'(

I have no one to wake me up 3 in the morning and tell me to go to the grocery store and buy her candy.

I have no one to call me every 5 min and tell me to do something. :(

Another thing that makes me miss her so much is the fact that she isnt here to talk to me about life...problems.

When you have people going around talking about you and your personal life and bash you both privately and publicly, you need some one to talk to.

When you have people going around spreading rumors and slander/backbite you and your personal life, you need some to believe you and know the truth.

Asma did both. She talked to me and believed me and knew what the truth was. Even though she would tell me not to care, she would be there to share the pain and/or anger with me.

Wow, Subhana'Allah...shes gone. :(

Assalaamualaikum Warahmutallah.

Friday, August 05, 2005

One More Time

Assalaamualaikum Warahmutallahi Wabarakatuh,

So I just got back from the cemetery. I went there after I prayed Jummah.

While going there, I kept thinking about the day she had passed away. Subhana'Allah, everytime I think about it or go towards her grave, my heart beats faster. I have this indescribable feeling inside of me. Its a feeling of helplessness and lonliness. Its a feeling of emptiness.

It may sound wierd when I say that I feel lonely and empty because I dont have my 12 year old sister any more. I may sound wierd coming from a 23 year old guy. However, she was one of the closest person to me in my life.

She knew stuff about me that sometimes others didnt. She would even try to help me get out of trouble from my parents. lol Subhana'Allah.

Most of all, she gave me advice when I needed it most. She lent me an ear when no one else did. She was there for me whenever I needed her.

While on my way to the cemetery, I kept thinking about the moment when we prayed Salatul Janazah and viewed for the final time. I vividly remember that after we saw and kissed her for the last time, I wouldnt let them close the casket. I told them I want to kiss her once more.

In my mind, I figured that I will give Asma many kisses so that later I wont think that I wished I can kiss her again. So as they were closing the casket, I said, "Abhi ruqay." ("Stop right now.")

I proceeded to give her a kiss. As I planted my lips on her cold, sweet-scented cheek, I didnt move for a good 5-7 seconds. 5-7 seconds may not seem much, but it was. Everyone was just watching and waiting for me to get up.

At the time I thought that I gave her enough kisses and I wouldnt wish later that I could give her more kisses. Well, little did I know that now as I type this, it feels like I only gave her one kiss.

I just want to kiss all over her fluffy, whitish/pinkish, cold, sweet-scented cheeks and her forehead again. I want to hug her once more. I want to run my fingers through her hair like the way she asked me to do so when she wanted to go to sleep one last time.

One more thing I wish I can do once more to her...say, "I love you."

Assalaamualaikum Warahmutallahi Wabarakatuh.

 
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