The following includes views on death and religion so if you’re not interested in either subject (which is fine) step away from the entry…

Yesterday, my brother in law’s (Vasim’s) father passed away. He’s had some sort of cancer for a few years now and in these past few months, he took a turn for the worse. He finally succumbed to his sickness yesterday after being bedridden for a while. He had suffered quite a bit all the way up until the end.

We have this thing in Islam that 1) everything happens for a reason, even if you can’t see why and 2) and any kind of suffering endured in this life - which could be something as simple as hurting yourself when walking into a door - is less suffering one has to go through in the afterlife for his/her sins.

Trust me when I say that the above makes dealing with things a lot easier.

At the funeral prayer yesterday, people were making the obvious comments of comparing him to my dad - their sicknesses, how it all ended, etc. I understand that it’s not always about my dad and he’s not the father to die and all that, but I just couldn’t help thinking about him yesterday and missing him so much.

I remember that when my dad died, I took solace in the fact that he wasn’t suffering anymore. It was so hard to see what he had become in a span of 3 months and I knew he hated it. The only way I was even able to deal with what was happening to him was my belief that things happen for a reason and therefore there was some reason he had to endure his tumor and subsequent suffering.

I saw Vasim’s mom yesterday and my heart went out to her. It will be a while for her and her family to be able to move on. I wish their family the best right now and hope that things get better for them, InshAllah (God willing).

I never thought myself much of a baby/little kid person until my nephew was born a bit more than two years ago. I remember being at the hospital, looking at this baby and overwhelmed by the fact that he was my nephew. He fell asleep in my arms the first time I held him. Two years and a few hundred pictures of Raza later, he has grown into quite the cute kid.

And now, we all have to deal with his ‘tude.

Yesterday, I spent more time with Raza than I had in a while and discovered a few things that seemed to have come up just recently: He doesn’t like being called “baby” and he really does not like being laughed at, two things that didn’t seem to be a problem just a few weeks ago for his Bushra Khala (Aunt Bushra) to do.

So yesterday he and my sister were over at our place and I was hanging out with Raza when he picked up something off the floor. Realizing he was going to stick it in his mouth at some point, I asked for it. He gave it to me but then asked for it back soon after. I pretended not to have it and he took my hand and checked it thoroughly. He asked me where it was and I feigned ignorance.

“I don’t know,” I told him, shrugging my shoulders. He then looked at me with a knowing smile, and said, “Bushra Khala use magic?”

I couldn’t help it, I laughed. Then something completely unexpected happened: he took offense. His brow furrowed and he walked away from me towards my sister. He pointed a finger at me and said “baby!” as an insult and proceeded to seek comfort with my sister. I apologized but he continued to ignore me and after following him around for a while I told him that every time he does something and apologizes, I accept the apology right away. And yet, he doesn’t accept my apology? (I had fake tears in my eyes at this point). He looked at me, said “sorry” and gave me a hug.

All was well.

I made a mental note that he can now tell when I’m mocking him.

A while later, my sister said something about bubbles so I chipped in with a “Bubbles is a character in The Wire”. Raza comes up to me and says “Bushra Khala, can you show me the bubbles in the water?” It was obvious he misheard me. So I laughed.

Oops.

It took me a while to get back in his good graces again.