Finding Solace

Chapter 12 - Daddy

Dad.
Dear dad, Happy Fathers day. I wish I could tell you that today. But you went away.
Mummy said that you went away, back to where we all come from, from the ground. But I miss you. And its fathers day. And all my friends have their daddies. And I don't.
And I miss you. And I want to give you a hug and tell you I'm sorry for breaking the toy you bought me. But you gone. And Mummy said I must make dua for you. She said I mustn't write this letter, but I'll still write it. And I'll make dua for you. I love you lots daddy.
Attiya.

My eyes welled up with tears. Tears began to drop onto the crumpled piece of paper. The paper which I found shoved into one of the many boxes I had. The boxes that contained belongings that I never used.

This letter was written years ago. This letter was to my father, written by a little child who didn't understand the full concept of death. I wiped away my tears but they continued to come.

Daddy. I miss you.

In the years following my fathers death, I never let my mind wander onto the topic for too long, for I always ended up in tears.

Those kind of tears and sobs that lead to my throat closing up, making it hard for me to breathe.

But now, this letter was my undoing. I sobbed and cried. I curled up into a ball on the floor and read it over and over again, burying my face into a pillow so that no one would hear me.

But my attempts to cry unnoticed failed, when there was a knock on my door.

Another knock.

Another knock.

And then the door swung open with a worried Mahmoud standing there. He saw me on the floor and his eyes opened wide in shock. 'Attiya whats wrong?'

'Please fo away.'

He cautiously took a step towards me, still keeping his distance. 'Your mother phoned me to check up on you. She left to go somewhere urgently. Let me help you up.'

'No. Please leave! I don't need your help!'

He backed off and I stood up wobbling a bit, but gaining my balance after a few seconds.

Mahmoud's gaze fell onto the letter. He lifted it up before I could stop him and his eyes flitted over the words. He looked back at me with pity, with goddamn pity and I started to cry again.

Within a few minutes a blanket was draped over my shoulders by Mahmoud.

Again he took a step back not coming into my personal space that I had marked the moment he became a part of this family.

I sat down on my bed and Mahmoud leaned against the door frame. Once I had calmed down, once the tears had subsided and once I could breathe normally, I wiped my face.

Mahmoud cleared his throat and spoke. 'Attiya, I need to talk you about something.'

I looked up at him, blinking a few times so that my vision would clear.

He exhaled loudly and shoved his hands into his pocket. 'You've never fully accepted me into this family, and I understand that.'

I nodded my head and crossed my arms over my chest.

'I've been doing a lot of thinking over the past week. I was curious about divorce in Islam. I know the basic facts and procedure but your case, your talaq was so- so strange. And I phoned a few people to ask what a woman should do in this type of situation and-'

He didn't say anything.

'And?'

'And long story short we need to review those divorce papers. If Fayaaz signed them then you're menat to be in Iddat. Until you get those papers back we won't know. Can I ask where you put them?'

'I, I actually sent it to a lawyer to review. They'll only be able to give it back to me in a week or two.'

'Well until then, our hands are tied.'

'Mahmoud, thank you. For looking out for me. Does my mother know that you asked a moulana?'

'I told her that I was doing research into it, but once she comes home I'll tell her and I'll tell Mouin.'

'Thank you Mahmoud. I know I haven't always been the easiest 'daughter' to deal with, but thank you.'

'We're family Attiya. Whether you accept it or not, we are. Family looks out for each other.'

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