Tuesday 30 May 2017

Scars to my beautiful.

Wisps of condense white smoke floated beautifully in the air around in the living room, saturating the atmosphere with a rich sweet smell of Arabian incense emanating from the dipping red glow end of a stick of burning incense stuck in wax as the pitch of bass male voices of Islamic clerics undulated rhythmically in high and low tones while reciting Quranic verses for the repose of our late father.

It is Dad's annual remembrance and it's amazing to know that it's been over two decades already since his demise and how rather unconsciously, time has really healed us as we had  taken solace in God's love and protection over us through the years.

Earlier in the morning while having a light breakfast, Hamz had asked why Mom wasn't crying as she was now accustomed to doing almost every year, shockingly,  she scoffed and said there was no need to as a lot of years had passed and she has been healed over time as it isn't so fresh in her mind again. Hamz asked if she still loves Dad to which she affirmed with rapids nods while taking a sip of tea then she responded with a question, asking us to be honest that if the tables were turned and she was the one who had transited to the great beyond, would our Dad still be single to this day, to which we all gave a knowing smile of what the answer definitely would be which is an outright no, although I couldn't help but assume in my mind that the many hurts and disappointments Dad had put Mom through from beyond the grave with Karl's existence, issues about his shares' dividends and how it should be shared amongst other ugly surprises had contributed immensely to her gradually becoming emotionally numb to his remembrance.