We belong to Allah and to Him is Our Return

Alhamdulillah, my husband returned safely from his emergency trip to Egypt.  If you are connected to his or my Facebook, you know that his brother passed away over the weekend.  As Muslims, when we hear of a death, we say “Inna lilahi wa inna ilahi rajiuun”,  which translates as “Indeed, we belong to God and to Him is our return”.  It is a reminder that our time here in this world is borrowed time.  Our loved ones do not belong to us; they are a trust for us.  Every person is born and dies according to Allah’s will and with His permission.

My brother-in-law’s story is not mine to tell.  The memory of his life belongs mostly to others; I talked with him both times I visited Egypt but we were not close.  He was tall, spare, and had a classic Egyptian face, taking after his mother, may Allah have mercy on her.  Didn’t look like my husband at all.  He chain smoked.  He laughed loudly.  He argued in typical enthusiastic Egyptian fashion.

He died in his brother’s arms.

Aside from quick Viber calls from Egypt expressing frustration with the hospital and doctors, my husband did not tell me too much about the situation while he was there.  And after his brother passed, he made one quick call to let me know, his voice thick with grief.  Since he returned last night, one sentence only, and then, “I don’t want to talk about it”.  I respect his grief, his silence.  It is too new, too raw, to speak of.

He’s out now, back to work, back to daily life.  I’m so glad he went to be with his brother.  His brother had issues, big ones, but I am here to tell you that Allah sent my husband to be with him.  It had to be him, no one else, because my husband cuts to the essence of what it is to live and die well. My husband would be the only one there who cared more for his afterlife than his life, and I know, even if he never speaks of it, that he would have said words to help save his brother from the Fire.  I know.  And I know that his brother would accept it from him, because even though my husband is the youngest, he has always been the leader, the gadfly, the reminder, the stick poking in the wasp nest of forgetfulness.  At his last moment, with his last breath, I’m sure my brother-in-law remembered his soul, because his brother wouldn’t let him forget.

Inna lilahi wa inna ilahi rajiuun.