Dare You To Love Me

«41» a daughter's plea

No one had told Yaseerah how loud and depressing silence was.

Her knees were drawn up to her chin, with her arms wrapped tightly around them, as she sat on one of the plastic chairs in Mamu’s hospital room, her gaze fixed solely on the white wall.

The silence felt oppressive, punctuated only by the steady beeping of the machines Mamu was hooked up to.

She had been in that position since she had sent both Fou’ad and Bilal away to get some rest after they had prayed fajr–which hadn’t been easy because they both put up a fight and now that she was alone, all she felt was a hollow emptiness replacing the ache in her chest, and the rawness of her guilt.

She was supposed to be feeling something—grief, fear, anger—but it felt like her emotions had been locked away, seeming unreachable, no matter how hard she tried to grasp onto them.

Her mind swirled with a jumble of thoughts, memories, and regrets, but they all seemed to float in a fog, as elusive as sand grains on one’s palms.

She wanted to cry, to scream, to feel something, anything, but there was absolutely nothing, just a vast emptiness that was fast spreading to every limb in her body.

She turned away from the wall, her gaze drifting to Mamu’s still form on the hospital bed. The sight of her mother, so fragile and pale, should have been enough to break her now, but she felt nothing.

Uncrossing her arms from her legs, she reached out and took her mother’s hand in hers, its coldness making her feel a pang of something–a mix of sorrow and guilt–but it was fleeting, disappearing as quickly as it had appeared.

The numbness was suffocating, wrapping around her like a thick blanket, dulling her senses, and numbing her pain. Her shoulders slumped, feeling like she was drowning in her own helplessness, unable to save her mother.

The hospital room seemed to be closing in on her, the beeping machines and antiseptic smell suffocating her, but she couldn’t find it in herself to leave. 

Closing her eyes, she leaned back in her chair, as a tear slid down her chin, followed by another, and another. She didn’t bother wiping them away, letting them fall like raindrops, as she held onto Mamu’s hand, her eyes fixed on her mother’s still form.

And then, just when she wasn’t expecting it to happen, Mamu’s eyes flickered open.

Yaseerah’s breath caught in her throat as she sat frozen, her mind numb, her gaze locked onto her mother’s, whose eyes were still cloudy with medication, and slowly trying to focus.

Alhamdulillah, she thought gleefully.

The machines beeped on erratically, but the sound faded into the background as the two women stared at each other.

The moment seemed to stretch out like a rubber band, taunting Yaseerah with its fragility, as they continued to stare at each other, Yaseerah feeling like she was drowning in her mother’s gaze, unable to escape the sorrow and longing that filled her chest.

She watched as a gentle smile spread across Mamu’s face, a smile that spoke of love, of acceptance, and of a deep understanding that transcended words, and she knew that by Allah’s will, all shall be well.

Yaseerah felt a weight lift off her chest at the sight of Mamu’s smile, a glimmer of hope cutting through the darkness that had engulfed her.

“Hi, sweetheart,” Mamu smiled up at Yaseerah, as she struggled to sit up, her gaze roaming around the room before she gave up, and settled her gaze on Yaseerah. “You seem sad, is everything okay?”