A Sovenir From The Past

A Souvenir From The Past

Asma had never known her dad because he had died when she was a little girl; just 7, she sometimes remembered him but couldn't really recall the short memories they'd shared.
And as she sat looking at his picture now at 23 she could feel the dull ache she still felt in her heart each time she remembered him. She missed having a father she could adore and love so much. She ran her fingers across the framed image her mother had reserved specially for her and smiled at the resemblance between her beloved daddy and her. They had the same eyes, the same nose, the same full lips down to the smallest detail, she was like a female version of him. Her mother had told her that even how she walked, smiled and sat was just the way he did. And she knew vividly how it pained her mother to remember those things. Asma would spend plenty hours looking at his picture and wishing she had known more of him before he died, just maybe she could reserve the best of the memories for when she missed him.
She only lived on the stories people had told her about him, she loved the stories, they had told her what they knew about him, he was a kind, generous, intelligent and caring man. Since the moment she heard those stories she couldn't stop herself from loving him the more and almost worshiping his image.
She didn't hear when her mother opened the door and entered into the room until she called her name.

"Asma"

"Oh mama! You scared me, when did you come in?" She asked as she turned around to look at her mother.

"Just now." She replied answering her question.

"And how would you know when I came in when you're busy with that." She pointed at the frame on her

"I've been calling you for the past 5 minutes and you couldn't answer so I guessed what you were up to."

Talatu shrugged making her daughter laugh, she was always funny and Asma loved that about her, she was also like that. She might have resembled her dad but had her mother's gentle and carefree personality.
She noticed as her mother looked at the picture and averted her gaze immediately. As if just looking at it pierced her heart. Asma never knew why but that was how her mother acted each time she saw the picture and there was a distant look in her eyes that one could mistake for how she missed him. As Asma grew older and grew up to know her mother better, she could tell the look in her mother's eyes was of an untold story. There was something there she was holding back that Asma couldn't figure out.
She had never asked her about it but she knew there was something hidden in her heart. She could remember how her mother couldn't tell her about her father each time she asked. It always ended up making her upset and cry very hard so she stopped asking. She had the impression that her mother couldn't talk about him because she missed him so much and couldn't bear talking about him any more.
Something in her heart nudged her to ask her mother again, maybe she might be lucky, she had noticed she was in a good mood.
She moved close to where she was sitting on one of the chairs in the room.
"Mama I'm sorry to ask but each time I ask you to tell me about daddy you just shake you head and start crying. I know you miss him so much and I can imagine how it hurts to lose someone you love so early in life and I know you can never forget him. I love him too even without knowing him and just from what I've heard I'm proud I had him as my father." Asma smiled as her mother's eyes filled with tears immediately, the striking resemblance was just too much. Everything about her daughter reminded her of Mahamud.

She ignored the tears she was seeing in her mother's eyes. Back then she thought maybe because her mother was married to another man, she couldn't talk about her father but then her stepdad had died 3 years before. Still Talatu couldn't tell her much about her him.

"Mama I knew my dad was a nice and kind man and each time I pray, I beg Allah to bless me with a husband like him whom even after his death he'd be forever missed."