Falling Harder✔

Chapter Thirty: Life is a beautiful struggle

And whosoever fears Allah…He will make a way for him to get out (from every difficulty). And He will provide him from (sources) he never could imagine.
The Holy Quran 65:2-3

Chapter Thirty:

Life is a beautiful struggle.

Grief.

Feels like emptiness in you heart, a shear of nothingness that somehow takes over and holds your soul and threatens to kill you entirely. It gives you this heavy feeling that’s like the weight of the world is resting on your shoulders and there is nothing you can do to get out from under it.

Its like this hole in your heart that is the shape of the one you lost and that makes you feel the need to wipe away any non-existent tears that you want to form but can’t.

I will never get to tell him how much  I loved him, one last time. I will not get to hold him close, before he slips  away. I will never even get to look into his loving, beautiful face, which always brought me so much happiness, before he fades away. 

He has been my anchor when I started to drift. My friend when I had none. He had always been there for me with a smile shining in her bright brown eyes; and now he will be gone. Forever. My anger slowly dissolves to sadness as tears embrace my eyes.

Can you stay a little longer? I never want to imagine life without you. I never want to grow old looking at your memories from the photos we have. I don't want to believe this reality. For once, love has felt so beautiful and it has blossomed into flowers, but sometimes happiness is short lived. Happiness, oh dear heart, stay strong.

"I have done lots of research and I found the best hospital. We can surpass this phase, you don't lose hope," Leila phoupee spoke handing a mug of coffee to Murad. The entire family was aware of it since we couldn't hide the matter from them.

I was sad, the fact that he had been ailing and I couldn't have his share of pain devastated me. I watched him grow week, his skin scaling and his lips cracking. It was the effect of the blood cancer and the depression that he was going through.

He never got out of the house and in rare cases, he went to work. The smile on his face was getting lost. It ached me, my husband should not have such a fate. I kept on praying every time I felt my faith weaken.

Every time I felt my heart heavy with emotions, I drowned my tears in sujuud praying for a miracle. Allah is the best of the planners, if He could change the darkness to light, our distress to Him was something trivial. I still believed that my prayers wouldn't go unanswered.

"Ammi, we will try it out." I said plastering a smile on my face. I posed a strong face. A face that was hiding millions of emotions, eyes that twinkled not because of happiness, but because of the tears that glistened my eyeballs.

The therapy was a difficult and painful experience. It was a four week medication and then he'd have a bone marrow transplant within three weeks.

I felt weak, every time my family members looked at us, every time I looked at the beautiful apartment we called a home, my heart wept.

Two weeks had passed since the reports were out. We shifted to his mother's place. It wasn't a good idea according to him but he couldn't run away from the happenings that forced me to opt for it.

***

"The therapy is really painful but I believe you got the strength to endure it, believe you me, this disease is curable," Dr Fred spoke scribbling something on his notepad.

We had gone to an oncologist. I couldn't afford to lose him as the days passed. It was costly but since the entire family contributed to finance the treatment, it was manageable.

He was immediately admitted to the hospital. "Promise me, you'll fight for us, you'll fight for our dreams," I spoke holding his hand. He looked at me and blinked back tears," for you, a thousand times over," he said pulling me closer to his chest.

I rested my head on his chest feeling his heartbeat, I felt solace, as if time had stopped, I felt at peace. The nurses came in, I was led out of the ward.

I felt my head heavy, chills running through my spine, suddenly, my eyes closed, I was unconscious.

Waking up, I found myself in a ward, a tall young lady was smiling at me, she was a nurse dressed in a pink attire. She was noting something on her notepad, then she came closer and helped me sit.

"Ma'am, you shouldn't be stressing in this condition. You need rest and a lot of vitamins. You are weak and I hope you take good care of yourself henceforth." She said.

"What do you mean?" I questioned trying to stand but I was still weak and I found my body resting itself on the hospital bed.

"You are four weeks pregnant, don't you know that?" She smiled handing me a glass of water.

I felt my heart skip wildly. Did I just hear that I was pregnant? I almost cried. My eyes welled up with tears, she walked out of the room.

I wiped the tears from my eyes and muttered," alhamdulillah, Allah plans beautifully and writes our fates artistically each plot with a new twist. I ask you Ya fattah- the opener of very door of bounties, to bless me with a healthy offspring and cure my husband."

I walked out of the room, my heart filled with a new spark yet I still ached. Life is a funny joke, here, a life was being formed and in the next room,another one was fading away.
It ached me, yet a smile drew itself on my face. What a bitter sweet moment.

I peeped at him through the tiny window. He was struggling with life. I wished to drown myself in his pain and remove all the ache from his body, wishes! I still wished! But wishes were just for the weak and never happened. Two hours later, I was allowed in.

He was very weak, his face pale, he smiled at me.

"Hey champ," I uttered plastering a smile on my face. I had to reassure him and myself that things will go back to what they were. Things would be better and Allah is watching us,He is just testing us and if our separation was truly His plan, then we would love to live the remaining days, with smiles and laughter for qadar is inevitable.

"I am fine beautiful," he smiled squeezing my hand in his.

I held his hand and placed it on my belly, "fight sweetheart, we got to raise this one together," I said blinking the tears back in my eyes.

"Subhana'Allah, this is magnificent! May Allah make him or her the coolness of our eyes." He exclaimed letting the tears cascade down his face locking me in a tight embrace.

Life is a roller coaster. You can either scream every time you hit a bump or you can throw your hands up in the air and enjoy it. This time, hope filled my hear, we were fighting for something now, at least we had the motivation to give our hearts chances to hope again, dreams to follow and love the concept of life although the reality had something else.

I watched him put his hand on my belly, his face glistening hopefully, blood making his cheeks red, my husband, had revived his faith, he had something to fight for. What a sweet moment it was, yet it really hurt me to think of the other side of the coin, that maybe this struggle and this hope is going to be short lived.