A Story From the Heart

-June 15, 2004
10 PM

Every time I closed my eyes, I saw the same image: my Dad, alone in an empty room, calling out for help, but finding no one. After an hour of rolling around in bed trying to sleep in order to get that image out of my head, I gave up and decided to walk around the house, clear my head, and maybe call Dad. He was in the hospital, and I was very worried, but I thought maybe somehow he would pick up and tell me not to worry, and that everything will be alright. The ache I was feeling in my heart did not make me feel very optimistic. It was uncomfortable and for reasons I was afraid to think of, it would not go away. Words cannot express how frightened I was. I called my Dad, but his phone was switched off, so I sent him a text, simply saying I miss him so much and hope to hear his voice soon. Crying makes me feel better, but as sad as I was feeling at that very moment, the tears would not come out! My tears were blocked, and I felt like I was not even breathing anymore. After another hour of walking around, I decided to read Qur’an and finally, I slept.


-June 16, 2004
8 AM

After a few hours, and a very uncomfortable sleep, I woke up. My heart was still aching and I was still feeling terribly depressed. It was frustrating because I did not know how to make it go away! And it was terrifying me because I knew it had to do with my Dad being in the hospital. A few minutes later I got out of bed and went to the living room, and found the servants waiting for me with a stack of Nutella pancakes, and a glass of milk at the table. I was a bit surprised; something did not feel right. I sat down and had my breakfast anyway. I could not help but notice that the servants ran to the phone whenever it rang, there were no newspapers on the table beside me, and everything just felt.. different. And it was not a ‘good’ kind of different. I knew something was wrong. I could feel it. The phone rang and I quickly picked up before one of the maids could answer. It was my Grandfather checking on us, since my mom was on her way to Riyadh to see my Dad. I began to think maybe something was wrong with me, because even my Grandfather sounded different and very strange. He told me to tell my brother and sister to pack our bags and go to Jeddah on the first flight that day because my Dad “wanted to see us for a while”. As soon as those words were said, my heart skipped a beat, and the pain I was feeling doubled. I asked what is wrong with Dad several times, but he kept saying, “Nothing is wrong. He just wants to see you kids”. Something about his tone was not right. I got off the phone with him and called my Mom to see what was going on, but her phone was switched off because she was still on the plane. I needed someone to talk to, but my sister was at University, and my brother and cousin were still asleep. I could not take the silence anymore so I went to wake up my cousin. While she was having breakfast, I was telling her how worried I was about Dad, and how I needed to hear his voice and know he will be okay. She told me to pray for the best and hopefully everything will be alright. I still could not shake the bad feeling away though..

Around an hour later, my cousin and I were still sitting in the same place, talking. I was trying to smile, laugh, and talk normally, but it was too hard. I was in too much pain inside. The phone rang and I ran to answer, hoping it would be my Mom or Dad. It was my sister. She was crying. As soon as I heard her voice, I felt my eyes tear up, even though I had no idea why she was crying. She would not tell me why she was crying. Instead, she asked to speak to my cousin. I handed the phone to my cousin, and just stood in front of her, waiting to know why my sister was crying. My cousin was listening to my sister, but did not say a word. I could see her eyes tearing up. She tightened her grip on the phone for a second, and then dropped it. I was looking at her with fear and hope in my eyes. In her eyes, however, I saw sadness and disbelief. Then I saw nothing because of the tears that came flowing out of her eyes as she hugged me. Through tears, all she managed to say in between gasps was, “Uncle Hamad... Uncle Hamad..,” and there was no need for her to finish the sentence..

I was in a state of denial. I felt like my tears were choking me, but I could not cry. I was physically incapable of crying, and it started to hurt. In that minute, my throat was hurting, my heart felt like it stopped beating, my eyes were burning, and my feet were numb. I silently picked myself up, and walked to my room, shaking my head, not believing that my Dad has passed away. Out loud, I was telling myself, “Dad? Passed away? No no. No way!” My cousin and the servants followed me to my room, and only then I understood why they made me a big breakfast and made sure I did not have access to the newspapers or the phone. My Dad passed away on June 15th, at exactly 10:15 PM, which explains the ache in my heart and discomfort I was feeling the night before. I walked back and forth in my room for a minute, then sat down on the edge of the bed, and cried my eyes out.

I had a million reasons to cry then, and I have two million reasons to cry about it now. I cry because I can’t remember the last words I said to him. I cry because no one was with him when he passed away. I cry because I never showed him how much I appreciate the sacrifices he has done for us. I cry because I regret not spending more time with him. I cry because even though he knows I love him, I barely said it to him. I cry because I’m never going to see his face again. I cry because he won’t be at my graduation. I cry because he won’t give me away at my wedding. I cry because he won't get to meet and spoil my kids. I cry because I felt like he was the only person who understood me. I cry because he was the solid rock I could lean on and always count on. I cry because I need him. I cry because I miss him. I miss him every single day. And if I could turn back the hands of time, I would spend every second of the day with him and the rest of my family. If he could hear me now I would tell him that I love him so much, and I miss him and think about him every day..


He kept at true good humour's mark
The social flow of pleasure's tide:
He never made a brow look dark,
Nor caused a tear, but when he died.
~Thomas Love Peacock