Thursday 1 May 2014

home

My brother bought our childhood home when he got married 26 years ago. Even though I don't live there anymore, it's doors have always been open to me, and I remember spending almost every holiday there as a child. Today was the first time in more than thirty years that we've had a gathering in that house.

My little nephew was born nine years ago with a suspended liver, two holes in his diaphragm and two holes in his heart. His chances for survival was minimal, at best, and the last nine years have been a battle for this little boy...operations, hospital visits, waiting for theatre dates...and about a month ago, he finally had his last operation (God-willing).

An old man, who is like a father to my brother, asked whether he could hold a little prayer ceremony (thikr) today, to give thanks to the Almighty for delivering my nephew safely through his trial and making his surgery a success. It was our family, and others who have been family friends for decades.

Twenty six years is a really long time, and many many things have happened during it. Many changes have occurred...as is normal, with the passing of time and progress of people.
Some things, however, do not change. And today I basked in a feeling I always get when I step into that house, but have not felt for a really long time.

I was home.