April 18, 2013 {Happy Anniversary}

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  • Dedicated to MOMMY AND DADDY
                                    

This is a double upload so if you haven't read the one before this about Boston, go back one part and read that first!

            Salam! I agree that my last post was a tad bit depressing. While I don’t think that we should just quickly brush off what happened because it doesn’t directly involve us, I’d like to end your night (or morning) on a good note by talking about…my parents! The two cutest people EBER, mashallah :)

            Today is my parents’ 22nd wedding anniversary. Twenty-two years ago, they weren’t even thinking about the three cute kids they’d have down the line and now look at us (well, look at me and that’s self-explanatory). All joking aside, I just want to share my thoughts for a few minutes.

            My brother is the first child. He was born…three years? Yes, three years into my parents’ marriage. I don’t particularly wish to dwell on the matter too much but my brother got brain damage when he was two or three days old. Yes, I don’t talk about it often. And that’s a story for another day (if you request it). Anyway, my brother, two years older than me, got brain damage when he was two or three days old.

            Being first time parents, newly married, and grief-stricken, my parents managed to hold it together, the first of many reasons why I admire them. Even growing up seeing what it’s like, I can’t fathom the emotional pain that they must have experienced, having to go through all that.

            Yet they pulled through, and they had a second kid (me). I don’t say this with self-pity or resentment or hurt, but my childhood wasn’t a walk in the park. We moved to America right before I turned five, and going from an environment with plenty of family and comfort to a new country with no close family around was tough on all of us. I remember having to adjust to the coldness of Jersey, going to a new school, assimilating to a new culture.

            So in this new life in America, as we were all trying to adjust, the years passed by as my brother and I grew up. Understandably, my parents dedicated a lot more of their time and attention to my brother, and with no other siblings and no other family, a common feeling in my childhood was isolation and loneliness, and the feeling of being lost.

            My brother started having seizures when he was ten (I was eight) and when he was eleven, my little sister was born. A year after that, my dad worked out of state, and continued to do so for the next four years.

            I didn’t appreciate it or notice it then, but looking back, I admire my parents so much for making it through happily despite the amount of struggles they’ve faced in their lives. I’m not saying my parents are perfect, because they aren’t, but I have nothing for respect for two people who came to a new country with two children, one who was special needs.

            I’m positive that who I am today is a direct reflection of the goodness my parents have instilled in me. Despite everything that’s happened, they managed to shower us with enough love and support that we got through it all, as one family, as a happy family. Maybe they couldn’t have always been there, but the reassurance of always having them there helped me get through it.

            Today, I observed my parents carefully, and I thought of how lucky I am to have two wonderful people in my life. Each day, I grow in admiration at the way they treat other people, at how adamant they are about Islam, about how they knew never to force Islam on us, but to introduce it so that one day we would grow to love it. I admire how every day they strive to be better people. I admire how even despite their differences they’re so dedicated to one another, at how not only are they husband and wife, but they’re best friends as well.

            Through their presence and their absence in certain situations and aspects of my life, I’ve grown to become a person who I can proudly lock gazes with in the mirror. After seeing how other parents of special needs children are, I’m amazed at the amount of patience, love, and understanding they have towards my brother. I love how we can joke with them, yet rely on them as the guiding figure in our lives.

            Mom, Dad, I’m definitely not the perfect daughter, but you inspire me to be. I literally cannot tell you how much I appreciate all that you’ve done for me. Thank you for every lesson, every moment, every bit of love and determination to raise me right.

            I hope that when it’s my time to meet God, my good deeds will be so immense, such a direct reflection of you two, that you achieve the highest level of heaven.

All my love,

Ash ♥ (aka your cutest kid)

PS: Could you please comment saying something you’d tell my parents if you ever met them? I want to show them all the cute comments :)

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Pretty self-explanatory. Cherish your parents ♥

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