Fragments of Ramadan

I see the picture of the girl-lady and it takes me a second to realize that it is me. And then it takes me a minute to realize that I’m holding Baby A.


I see a young mother who is working with a child in her lap, but they are seamlessly blended. 2 into 1. A mother who when holding her baby on her hip has an imbalanced walk, yet at the same time, everything is balanced. 2 into 1.

I am grateful for a Ramadan in which I was able to fast. In which I was able to nurture my children. A Ramadan in which I was able to reflect in bits and pieces of day and night. A Ramadan in which Z, now 4, was able to understand. A Ramadan in which we made eid cards. I forgot how soothing it is to pull out forgotten pastel crayons and blend to ones content. To ignore cooking, cleaning, laundry and just blend.




A Ramadan in which I printed and mailed potential hopes and dreams and a book deal was made.

A Ramadan in which a sunflower bloomed.


A Ramadan in which toddling cousins crept upstairs to pray together.


A Ramadan in which summer is almost over, pre-K is almost beginning and I may not need this cart for 2 much longer.


During these last hours of Ramadan, little stresses and worries we have are insignificant to those who are suffering and struggling in many parts of the world. What we have, we need to cherish and savor.

And when in doubt, pull out the pastels, and blend. And Maybe if we pray enough, we can blend the worries, pain, and sorrow of the world away.

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