the golden ray of sunlight that reaches the exact spot in the room where I am sitting. Golden Ray that makes the room look special all of a sudden.
on the phone, I am telling someone about what everyone in my acquired little family is doing tomorrow. I realize with a numb surprise as I pack my husband’s lunch, Z’s little lunch, and A’s littler lunch, that I don’t have a packed lunch. Where’s my lunch? Who makes my lunch? What am I doing tomorrow? Where am I in the picture? Am I to always remain behind-the-scenes?
to children who are bigger, yet still so small. Adjusting to a here-and-there preschool routine of A and trying to find smidges of time to get writing done, or to just sit and stare out the window and try to avert my eyes from the smattering of things everywhere.
the tingly warm feeling return to sore fingers as I rub an ice cube chip over my wrists, fingers, and joints. Note to self to do wrist circles and wrist bends and general exercise. Must avoid Carpal Tunnel Syndrome!
hummingbirds and butterflies (a monarch even!) to a couple of finicky zinnia blooms. Further welcoming the upcoming weekend in which aforementioned lunches do not have to be thermosed, foiled, and refrigerated.
Claire Bidwell’s memoir, The Rules of Inheritance,
about losing her mother (and then her father!) is raw and real and her words strung together are like little treasures.
on Hajj. I still remember my mother telling us that Hajj would fall in December and that my brothers and I wouldn’t have to miss work, that this was an opportunity to go. I thought I would perform Hajj in my 40’s, not 20’s. Shrugging a “Sure, why not?” in response. The uncertainty of applying for visas and being told that there wasn’t space for us in the Hajj group to go. Then by chance, the person on the phone happened to ask my mother our ages. We were in our early 20’s.
Then to be told they always encouraged young people to go, were we still interested?
Yes. Yes. We Were. Then being swept on the journey of a lifetime. Being one minute person in the midst of millions of people, but being in exactly the right place to be.
Sharing a few of my Eid photos as well as this article on Atlanta Muslim that featured the many diverse Eid celebrations in Atlanta! Was happy to see a few of mine in the article! What I love about Eid are the colorful dresses and excitement of the little ones whether it’s from getting a goody bag chock-full of candy or catching bubbles in silky Eid joras!
baby-greeting always brings spontaneous smiles!
‘Eib’ is so close to ‘Eid’!
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.
Eid is pajamas-be-gone!
Eid is welcoming bangles
Eid is cakes substituting for meals
Eid is decorated, happy masjids. This one is in West Virginia- a warm, welcoming community!
Eid is remembering ones back home
Seeing this diverse community here makes me realize that even though you’re far away from what you consider home, your heart is where your home is.
Eid is a crawly baby and a chattery 3 year old, that may cling to me in a masjid hallway, and for now I am at peace and thankful for them.
Eid Mubarak to all those who celebrate eid!
This is something my mother does for her neighbors and is well received!
Here’s the text- I usually vary what i write yearly:
It’s Ramadan so without further ado…
Ramadan is a month Muslims celebrate.
A time to reflect, blessings to appreciate.
Muslims fast from sunrise to sunset
But wait, that’s not all just yet!
Ramadan is a time for extra reflection and prayer,
A special time to reach out, to show that we care…
So we sincerely hope you enjoy this food
And that it uplifts and inspires your mood!
Print, sign your name, attach to food, deliver:)! If hand making something, list your ingredients.
and a link about sharing Ramadan with your neighbors: a snack sharing note, and more tips!