Tuesday, March 29, 2011

Come join the club

My friend Dalal shared this fantastic website recently.

http://growmama.com/

It's an online community for Muslims moms. A club I am proud to be a member of, Alhamdulilah. Please join. Noor needs more friends.

My weight loss secret

Believe it or not I weigh less now than I a little over a year ago. My amazing diet secret is...are you ready for this?... my daughter.

I knew children can be challenging, albeit rewarding, sometimes drive you up the wall, and generally cause your hair to turn gray. But someone should have told me about this very positive side affect. Hearing about how much energy they take, and experiencing it for myself are two entirely different things. My daughter Noor is absolutely non-stop, around the clock ball of fun, wanting constant play and interaction. I find her need for play most rewardng for those of us who love her the most. She loves us back and shows it in her constant smile and laughter. May Allah always keep her smiling.

But I must admit, it it hard for me to remain grateful for this, especially around 4 pm, when my back hurts, and my eyes are getting droopy, and Noor is (of course) full speed ahead. It's time for me to push myself to keep going. Just as if I'm on a treadmill. But weight loss is not my motivation, really. It's that big smile, with those two tiny teeth proudly on display.

Sunday, March 27, 2011

A visit to the chapel

Last night we had dinner in the city at Persian Grill, declicious Persian food. It's located on 1st ave and 67th street.

Right across from Memorial Sloan Kettering. As I approached the exit for the hospital I felt a tightening of my chest. Coincidentally we parked right in front of it. I could not help but glare at it. Has it changed, is this still the same building where Rehab spent her last few days? Perhaps I dreamt of it, those five days spent shuffling between home and hospital did not happen.

We walked to the restaurant, where we were greeted by the world's slowest servers. As we waited for them to take our orders, I put on my coat, told my husband what to get for me and walked out. I walked down 67th street, with it's parking garage, children's playground and school. A quick left at the corner put me in front of the hospital. The security guard greeted me and asked me what floor I was visiting. I was speechless, so he asked if I was a visitor. "Kind of." Finally I went up to that lobby. I thought perhaps I would see Zaied, sitting alone, or Hend and her husband taking a walk. Or Rehab's mother in law, doing work on her laptop. But it was empty. A ghost town. So I went to the chapel, read Quran and made dua for Rehab and all those in the hospital, before her, and those who were yet to come.

As I stepped outside, I took in the deepest breath I had since we arrived in the city. It was a frigid day, but did not bother me. I was enjoying my ability to breath.

Thursday, March 24, 2011

Jam reminds me of Allah's blessings. And life reminds me of death.



Recently I have found what I consider to be the best jam I have ever tasted. Ever. It has only 4 ingredients. Strawberries, rhubarb, sugar, acid. It's that simple. It's comes from a chef in New York City,Sarabeth. Aptly, the jam is named Sarabeth's.

By the way, did you ever hear Rehab talk about rhubarb? Thanks to a Jamie Oliver cookbook chapter, she was obsessed with it for a short while, trying to buy it (as it was not an easy supermarket buy), looking for rhubarb recipes. I can't remember if she ever got around to making it. But I bet Zaied would remember, as he was often her taste tester. Lucky him ;). If anyone would have appreciated this jam as much as me, it would be Rehab.

Anyways back to this jam. It's sold in select supermarkets for *gasp* $9.99! Sometimes it's on the same shelf as Smuckers, which is a quarter of the price. I know that the price is preposterous, but I have only bought it a handful of times, on sale for $6.99. You are probably thinking what's the big deal, it's only $7.

But to have this jam is a reminder to me of all the blessings from Allah. That I am able to go safely and conveniently buy it. That I can have it whenever I want. That I am able to spend that amount of money on a condiment, without thinking twice about it's weight on my (however meager) pocketbook. It's much more than jam. Alhamdulillah.

Now onto the second part of the title. Before I begin, let me tell you that today, march 24, 2011, my daughter Noor started praying. She held onto the ottoman, for the earlier prayer, and later the sofa, and bowed down repeatedly, mimicking my ruku. And she mouthed non-words, I guess her version of the Quran. It's so amazing how kids pick up everything we do.

So Noor recently turned one. What a blessing she has been over the past year, full of life, love, energy, and so much more. Never in my wildest dreams could I have imagined her to be the way she is, let alone thought to ask Allah for such a beautiful, tiny being.

I distinctly remember an afternoon about a month ago, when Rehab was not yet in the hospital. Noor was playing on the bed with some toys, jumping on me from time to time for a hug and a kiss. I can still feel how my heart ached, and my eyes began to sting as I realized Rehab does not have this. I begged Allah to give her something to love as much as I loved my own daughter. I pleaded and rationalized with Him how her and Zaied would be such excellent parents, that this world really needed them to put some great kids amongst us.

But in my moment of weakness, I overlooked His power and mercy. I doubted (may Allah forgive me) that what Allah gives, or doesn't give, is with reasons beyond our understanding. And I forgot that every soul will get what he or she deserves, that Allah is most just.

I am slowly realizing that Rehab's passing was a blessing to her. Why was I asking for her to have a child in this world, when I know that any being here would pale in beauty and perfection to her family in Jennah.

All I ask for now is to have many, many playdates with her in Jennah inshalah.

Wednesday, March 23, 2011

Leggings are not pants

Age old debate. Not.
Here are some links, the second one is particularly humorous.

http://www.huffingtonpost.com/bunmi-zalob/leggings-are-not-pants-an_b_761958.html?ref=fb&src=sp

http://www.collegehumor.com/video:1946405


Is it so hard to see the bad in something, when all we want to do is fit in?

Thursday, March 17, 2011

Spring is in the air

Goodness gracious today was the most perfect spring day. It was 60 degrees, the park was full of moms and kids, but not too crowded. It was the first official day at the park for toddler Noor, who is now a one year old, by the grace of Allah. She is learning to walk, so no crawling, no picking up, no stroller, and no even to her neat little tricycle. Noor the one year old will only accept your hand if you help her walk. I am grateful my three sisters were there to help her walk, or I would have been even more exhausted than I am. It was a beautiful day spent with my beautiful family and dear friends and their sweet kids.

But as my day wraps up I reflect on the fact that it's been just under two weeks since Rehab has passed away. I miss her dearly. If she were here, I know we would be making plans for a picnic, perhaps searching for the perfect picnic basket, trying to make the perfect egg salad sandwich to go in it. My problem is not that it's been hard for me; the problem is it's been too easy. I don't know how to fix this. I don't even know what to make of it. Am I that shallow? Why am I so easily distracted by this world that I can go on almost like nothing has happened? And how can I forget the biggest lesson I learned from Rehab; that every second is a blessing from Allah. How dare I forget this when I spend practically every second of my day with my daughter, who is a blessing beyond words. Perhaps I forget because I am so caught up in the moment, enjoying myself, having fun. So I wonder, what would Rehab do?

Monday, March 14, 2011

Rehab's Voice

I listened to this blast from the past this morning.
http://eliegardner.com/rehab/

I've heard it before, years ago, when Rehab and I googled our names to see what came up.

My sister asked me how many time I've listened to it recently. So far: 1

What I learned was I have been pronouncing homogeneous wrong all these years. Thank you for correcting me Rehab.

Sunday, March 13, 2011

For the love of sleep

Not mine. I'm talking about my daughter. We had one of those mornings, where she woke up yawning, and continued to fight going down for a nap for a long time.

Its strange that my daughter taking a nap refreshes me. I guess because in the time she sleeps, I get a little rest, do some work, (write a blog). And also because I know (God willing) she will wake up happy and cheerful.

Her sleep at night is another story. You know when you are studying for an exam and stay up for two nights, cramming? You are all but salivating at the thought of the sleep you are going to indulge in once the exam is over? Well that's how I feel. Except I have been waiting for that sleep for 12 months now.

Really it's all okay. My daughter is the biggest blessing in my life, and as I look around me, I also feel that she is also my biggest reminder of Allah. She never let's me forget for one second that Allah has blessed me in a million ways, and then tiny tests I get throughout my day are nothing. But I pray that they do help me rack up some good deeds.

When I put my forehead for the ground in prayer, I have a steady stream of duas (prayers) I make everyday. After Rehab passed away, I had to think twice about my duas, for example my request for Allah to cure Rehab was replaced with "give her family patience and reunite us in heaven". As I moved down my list I realized that so much of my dua was focused in the wrong place. I should be asking for more to benefit me towards my afterlife, less in this life. But it was hard to change. I am too scared to being without the blessings I have become accustomed to, I am too fearful of being tested.

Ya Allah give us the strength to face what may come our way, and the patience to endure it, even if we may not be able to see the good in it.

Friday, March 11, 2011

Taking it back (sort of)

I am about to hit the sack but I don't feel good about my last post. The truth is I'm not denial or anything like that. I hope.

But I cannot reconcile the emails/posts/articles about this amazing Rehab, who has become a lesson to those living, with the Rehab in my head. Yes, of course she is an amazing individual. But she was also just my Rehab. My dear, sweet, innocent Rehab who would give anyone the shirt off her back if she thought they needed it. Who bought cookbooks for the pictures, and obsessed over chicken Saab and pretty lamps.

I'm not going to lie, I feel possessive of her and her memory. So whenever I sign onto facebook and see a new article about her, I think to myself "that's not MY Rehab.". My Rehabbie is with me.

Rehab who?


This past Sunday, March 6 2011, a day before my daughter turned one, I lost a dear friend. Within 24 hours, I faced with a heartbreaking loss and tried my best to appreciate the life and blessing that is my first daughter. I did not do either one justice.

Over the past week, there have been Facebook pages and messages dedicated to Rehab El-Buri, countless articles, a foundation started up in her name and much more. I've read all over the Internet "What an inspiring person", "I did not know her personally, but wish I had", as people described her as pious, faithful, generous, patient, dedicated, and all kinds of amazingness. And sure, mashalah, she was all that. I have no doubt that she died clear of sins and will be in the highest level of heaven. But the more I read about her online, the greater the divide grew in my head. This incredible woman people keep talking about online, she sounds great, but she's not my Rehab. She cant be, because my Rehab is here in this duniya with me. I just saw her, remember we drove down south together (ok it was only 35 minutes away, but we agreed anything past Newark in south). We talked about my hate for navigation systems and her utter dependence on them (when she first moved to NJ). Who is the Rehab they keep talking about? And Rehab, when are we going to give persian food another try?