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A Year Outside of the Classroom: Chapter 29- To Mama

One box, another bag. One pile of clothes and a perfectly hung and wrapped white coat.

"Are you sure there isn't else you need?" Mama asked me (for the thousandth time, might I add). "Oh wait! There's another bag of food I don't want you to forget." 

There she was, running around to give me more, as it seemed she almost always was. She was always making sure we had what we needed- no, making sure we always had more than we needed. 

As I drove away from the house tonight, I saw her standing outside the house, her figure disappearing more and more in the background. She was probably still trying to think of what else I might need that I may have forgot. 

As I sit in my quiet apartment room nearly an hour away from her, I realize that what there is one thing I don't have with me at the moment and probably will always need: her. 

So Mama, it's your time. This is for you. 

If I was ever looking for a woman who could lift the weight of the world with her shoulders, I'm sure I'd end up looking at you. I believe that you are the reason that I have been able to pick up the weight over and over again in my life. You see, I have seen you over and over again show me how. 

Five years ago, at my high school graduation, after we moved the tassel from one side of our caps to the other, we were instructed to turn to our families and applaud them. I saw you in the distance, and I remember goosebumps crawling all over my skin as the weight of how hard you have worked to raise me, raise all of us, hit me like a wave. As we walked out of the auditorium, I saw you close by taking a photo and waving, and my vision was blocked by the tears that formed in my eyes. There would never be a way to truly express the gratitude I feel everyday, and I felt that in that moment, I realized just how impossible that would be. 

Maybe parenting is supposed to be like that: you do so much for us that we are unable to thank you adequately. All I can hope for is that somehow I show that your success as a mother-as my mother- through my character, compassion, and love for others, especially for you. 

Yet I can imagine that no matter how much pride you might have for us, the amount of worry is always greater. Some days I can almost see your mind churning and working thinking about us, trying to come up with ways to make something in our day better, despite how your day was. 

Mama, the truth is, I can't thank you enough for being you. So instead I have decided to ask you to forgive me. 

Forgive me if I did not ask you enough about your day, your might, your week, if I did not think to ask you how you were. 

Forgive me if I don't tell you often enough how much I appreciate you. 

I appreciate you. I appreciate you.  I appreciate you.  I appreciate you.  I appreciate you.  I appreciate you.  I appreciate you.  I appreciate you.  I appreciate you.  I appreciate you.  I appreciate you.  I appreciate you.  I appreciate you.  I appreciate you.  I appreciate you. 

Forgive me for every birthday or Mother's Day I did not give you a present for. I know you do not wait for them, but there is NO REASON why you should not receive a gift on any day. 

Forgive me for the flowers that died over and over again. As much as I love a beautiful bouquet of flowers, I hate that they do not last as long as my love for you does. 

Forgive me for every response I said without thinking first, for every argument I should not have started, for every chore I should have done without your request. 

Forgive me for not telling you enough just how beautiful, intelligent, brilliant, valuable, loving, caring, powerful, and strong you are. Because you are beautiful, intelligent, brilliant, valuable, loving, caring, powerful, and strong. So so strong. 

Forgive me for expecting you to be there all the time. I pray that you know that I plan to be here for you all the tine in return. 

Two days ago, after the white coat was draped across my shoulders, we were asked to turn to our families and applaud them. You were the face I looked for so desperately. Once again, as emotion washed over me in the sea of families and applause, I remembered that there is no way to truly thank you. So I silently prayed that you were saving this moment into a memory in your head, to play in slow motion when we'd miss these times, just like I was saving it. 

Tonight, I am thinking back to that, thinking back to your face peeking from behind the rows of heads.I am thinking of how often I take you for granted, and how much I pray that you know how much I appreciate you being there, all the time. 

Mama, I love you, but there is no perfect way to show you all the love that you deserve. It's impossible because you deserve what could not possibly exist in this world. 

May Allah (SWT) keep you around in my life, my queen. I need your dua. I want your dua. I need you. Always. 

With endless love,
Manar

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