My Blog

Hand Woven

Been thinking a lot about my mother lately, hard to believe she’s been gone so many years. It seems like yesterday, last week, a month ago at most I midnight called her knowing she would be awake, playing solitaire at the kitchen table we spent so many hours eating, laughing, talking around. Can it really be nineteen years since I last heard her voice, me truly still a child despite having a child of my own, thinking she would be there for me forever- no not forever, but for a very long time and then-

she wasn’t.

In a split second lives change, people come and go, stand tall and fold, circumstances turn upside down so you can hardly recognize them anymore except maybe with the feeling of a vision almost grasped but not quite, deja vu but really, when you were there the mountains actually reached towards the sky but now you see only their reflection in a clear blue  mountain lake.

Even now I reach for the phone to call her, talk about days and dreams and how did you do this help me figure it out so I don’t fall down again? For my mama, I do miss her, mash’Allaah.

Buried 1

Hand Woven

She was there when he was born

Hot blood gushing amidst tears and silence

Thankfully not hers.

No platitudes or empty prayers,

Simply support and a hand held tight.


Her life was built on courage

Dreams spilling from hurt and shame

Hers to hold alone…

Strength of spirit and hope

Bound with doubt of self.


I was late life born from late love

Child running through grown up lands

Fire to her cool calm…

Striving, spinning dreams

From photos creased with wear.


“Say, um…mom died…”

Words crackle through stormy night

Dad cried…

After first sorrow, I searched

For her in me.


I hear her whisper now as

Memories slip through soft shadows

My dreams and hers…

Braided, woven tight

Hands upon my heart.


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Umm on September 28, 2013 6:05 am

I know. I understand.

It has been 5 years since my mom passed away and I am still trying to figure out how to live without her guidance, love, and smile. Many days I feel as if I am a child and I need her to hold my hand and tell me that everything will be ok in the end.

Jazaki Allahu Khair

Khadijah on September 28, 2013 1:00 pm

BarakAllaahufeekee! It constantly reinforces the importance of the role I play in my own children’s lives as well, mash’Allaah, and helps me to keep on doing my best for them, and the success is with Allaah alone.

Pat Musick on September 30, 2013 4:00 pm

It’s been 44 years since my mom died, after three hellish years of struggle with cancer during the years I was 14 to 17. For fifteen years, I could not speak of her without tears. The way she embodied graciousness, humor, skill (she was a superb ceramist and teacher), love, zest inspired everyone. Hard act to follow as I stumbled along. Somewhere along the line–at last–I began to realize she has a continuing presence within me-this gift of life is not just birth.

Khadijah on September 30, 2013 5:53 pm

What a lovely tribute to your mother, that she taught you so much about how to face life. I had a difficult time talking about my mother as well, for so long, until I decided I had to give her to my children. Then the stories started to roll, and though I still cry tears of happiness or sorrow at times, I feel as though I am honoring her life every day. Thank you, Pat, for sharing this with me!

Sadiah on November 9, 2013 11:35 am

Isn’t funny how life passes by. It seems as if yesterday I was holding my baby son in my arms and now he’s 8 years old running jumping going to the Moskee and School. It’s like just yesterday I was hand washing his clothes wearing my husbands old clothes because I didn’t have any of my own and now I’m here with a partially broken washing machine wearing my dresses and it was as if it all went by so long ago but it still feels like yesterday. I realized the most important thing in life is time and spending it in the way of Allah t’ala. People in western countries always place so much importance on their kids having jobs and money and education in order to get more money to me that’s not what’s important. What’s important is pleasing Allah t’ala, we will leave this life and its pleasures we will be returning to Allah and our recompense not to our donya.

Khadijah on November 9, 2013 12:22 pm

Yes, mash’Allaah! I remember trying to explain to someone what it was like living in Ma’bar, and then Damaaj- it was like all that static and white noise that had surrounded me for so long in the West was gone, mash’Allaah, and everything was clearer and more immediate and I truly understood life- and death- better, alhamdulillah!

Roseanne Rech on April 1, 2016 4:42 pm

What you have written is so beautiful. Mom would be so proud of all you have accomplished, and the beautiful strong woman you have become. I love and miss Mom too, but I see her in you. Thank you!