麻豆约拍

From Sarah Joseph, Editor of a Muslim lifestyle magazine:听
In the two weeks since my mother passed, time has felt like it is at once - standing still, and at the same time speeding at such a pace that I can barely hold on to it. I鈥檝e been planning the funeral with my siblings 鈥� not an easy task as Mummy left no instructions, as well as dealing with the inevitable paperwork that comes with someone passing away. If I have learnt nothing else from these two weeks, it is that we must all talk about death more, plan for it, discuss it with our families, normalise this inevitable journey. But I have learnt a lot more from this fortnight. I鈥檓 not distraught. I鈥檓 not falling apart. I鈥檓 just experiencing an intense pain.
And I鈥檓 okay with that. The pain of separation from someone I loved so deeply is to be expected, and reminds me of what the Islamic scholar, mystic and poet, Rumi, wrote: 鈥淭here is a void in your soul, ready to be filled. You feel it, don't you? You feel the separation from the Beloved.鈥� The 鈥楤eloved鈥� Rumi is referring to is God 鈥� and for sure the pain of separation from a source of earthly love, is a reminder that in this physical world we are experiencing the pain of separation from what I believe is our true source, The Divine. It is an indisputable truth that this world, this life, is transitory. 鈥淪topping for shade under a tree鈥� is how the Prophet described our time on earth. If I needed any more of a reminder of how fast time passes鈥搘e鈥檒l be marking my son鈥檚 25th birthday tomorrow. It feels like I blinked, and an incomprehensible quarter of a century passed!听
Time passes 鈥� and fast, but I believe the Stoic Marcus Aurelius was right, 鈥淲hat we do in life echoes in eternity鈥濃�� our deeds and the way we treat each other are what matters, and will transcend this world. I believe we don鈥檛 really belong to this world. We don鈥檛 really belong to each other. It is inevitable that we will be parted one way or another. But for a moment in time 鈥� whether that be days, months, weeks, or years, we are sometimes afforded the great honour of knowing love, and are fortunate enough to experience something beautiful, which should be cherished. I had that with my mother. A Rabbi friend wrote to me: 鈥淚 presume the pain is a price worth paying for the love.鈥� And of course, he is right.