I lost my mother when I was 19. It was obvious to anyone that she had been unwell for some time, yet I refused to accept the clear signs of her terminal illness. To me, denial would somehow keep death at bay, and of course I was wrong.
Years later, my best friend in her late 20s lost her newborn baby. She passed away at the tender age of twelve hours old. She was taken away before she could even enter our lives.
More years passed, and a friend of mine lost her husband without warning. He was fine in the morning, suffered a heart attack around lunchtime, and was buried by evening.
What exactly is the “correct” age for death? There is none. It’s always too early.
These deaths, together with the other deaths that I have witnessed in between and since, drove home the point that death is definite and indiscriminate. It can happen in a flash, or with months of warning signs, but when the time comes, nothing can hold it back.
How do we handle it when we lose someone?
We know that death is a certainty but in reality we tend to harbour illusions that we will live forever. We feel as if those around us will not be taken from us, and we form deep attachments that make it difficult for us to cope, or even comprehend, when someone is not there anymore.
In understanding death, we have to first understand life. The nature of this world is that everything in it is temporary. Monuments crumble, civilizations perish, people come and go. Health alternates illness. The old make way for the new, and the cycle of life continues.
People are placed in our lives for a reason, but we lull ourselves into the false sense of security that they will be around indefinitely. This is why we cannot cope with the loss. We feel as if the death of a parent, a relative or a loved one is against the natural order of things, almost a betrayal, when in fact, the opposite is true – death is the only certainty in life.
We also approach life with an inherent sense of ownership. We feel as if people belong to us – our parents, children, spouses or friends – and many of us rely on them to be there for us forever; even more than we rely on our Creator.
In truth, we enter this world owning nothing and we leave taking nothing. We do not even own our bodies – our souls occupy them as trustees or as custodians, and our physical flesh is the temporary vessel for hosting our souls in the journey of life. Our permanent life is in the hereafter. Meantime, everything that crosses our paths, and everything that is placed in our hearts and hands, were put there as a trust from God.
People are placed in our lives for different periods of time and at different points in our lives, as a trust and for a reason and wisdom that only Allah knows. We have to accept these relationships for what they are – something transitory. The situation will change: we will leave them, or they will leave us. We cannot claim a permanent stake in any relationship.
In fact, one of the things already ordained for us before we were even born, is when we will die. It is written for everyone and beyond our control to prevent or delay: from the cancer patient to the person who suddenly slipped on the pavement, death is an imminent appointment, not a random accident.
If we can fathom this, we will appreciate that everything in our lives is on borrowed time. Even those who we feel should be in our lives forever, aren’t there to stay. When the Prophet SAW passed away, some of his followers, including Umar Al Khattab (RA), initially denied reports of his death, until they were reminded that like the rest of us, even Prophets die, and that the only permanent presence in our lives is the Almighty Creator. The One who will be waiting for us on the other side; the One who will never die.
It is a part of Life
Instead of shielding ourselves from the certainty of death, we should accept it as a part of life. We cherish, celebrate and appreciate those who are in our lives when they are still alive, and we accept Allah’s decree when their time is up. Resisting and denying death will not prolong their lives. By accepting the reality, we rid ourselves of the notion that life is everlasting, and instead acknowledge that like all who came before them, their time will run out.
Death is also an acute reminder of our goal in life. It brings us back to the basic purpose of our existence, which is to worship our Creator. Everything else that is placed in our lives are simply embellishments, to either support us or detract us from our journey to Paradise. Therefore, all relationships, love and attachments that we form should be relative to that goal.
We are placed here on trust for each other. This is beautifully illustrated by Umm Sulaim (RA), in a long hadith reported in Muslim. While her husband was away, their son died. She forbade her family members from breaking the news to her husband until she had relayed it herself. When he came home, she presented him with his meal, decorated herself and relaxed him with physical intimacy. She then asked him “Abu Talha, if some people borrow something from another family and then (the members of the family) ask for its return, would they resist its return?” He said: “No.” She said: “I inform you about the death of your son.” The story continues, her husband, being annoyed with her for conveying him the news in such a fashion, consulted with the Prophet SAW, who endorsed her actions. As time passed, she was blessed with nine other sons, all of whom were pious.
While this story is often quoted to demonstrate the qualities of a patient and considerate wife, it also reveals her profound wisdom and understanding. She comprehended that Allah was the owner of her son and was entitled to claim him back at His will.
Our reinforcement of Allah being the owner of all things is also reflected by how we are encouraged to react when we hear of someone’s death. We are taught to say “inna lillahi wa inna ilaihi raji’uun” which loosely translated means – “Surely we belong to Allah and to Him shall we return”. This phrase is a comfort and reminder for us. We are not here forever, and our lease of life will one day end.
The First Stroke of Grief
Patience is a virtue often extolled in Islam. Anas (RA) reported: The Prophet (PBUH) passed by a woman who was crying over a grave and said, “Fear Allah and be patient.” She said, “Away from me! My calamity has not befallen you and you are not aware of it.” The woman was later told that it was the Prophet (PBUH) (who had advised her). She came to his door where she found no doorkeeper. She said, “(I am sorry) I did not know you.” Messenger of Allah (PBUH) said, “Patience is (becoming) only at the first (stroke) of grief.” [Bukhari & Muslim].
Numerous ahadith have prohibited us from any excessive or violent display of grief that is reminiscent of the period of pre Islamic ignorance, such as wailing or tearing our clothes. This does not mean that we are to deny our emotions. We are only human and Allah bestowed upon us the faculty to love and feel pain, but we are also reminded to treat death in a dignified and patient manner. Allah understands our distress when it comes to losing someone, and what we are expected to do is to turn to Him for help and ease. The simple message can be distilled into: trust Allah and be patient with what has been ordained.
We are continuously being tested, by what we love and what we don’t, including the loss of life, and the loss of those we love. However, we can turn the loss into a blessing for us:
On the authority of Abu Hurayrah (RA), who said that the Messenger of Allah (PBUH) said: “Allah (mighty and sublime be He) says: ‘My faithful servant’s reward from Me, if I have taken to Me his best friend from amongst the inhabitants of the world and he has then borne it patiently for My sake, shall be nothing less than Paradise.’“[Bukhari]
We may feel as if our situations are unique, and that we feel shocked, devastated and overwhelmed. However, others too have faced terrible losses of their loved ones. Even our Prophet SAW was not insulated from the passing of those beloved to him – his parents, grandfather, uncle, wives, children and cherished Companions. He shed tears at their passing, wept as he laid them to rest, and missed them after they were gone. However, he accepted Allah’s decree. And did not permit his grief to overshadow his mission in life.
Even if our loved ones are gone, we have to hold on to our belief that Allah is our sustainer and cherisher. We will naturally feel the void that has been left behind, but we need to surrender to Allah’s will, and turn to Allah for guidance and strength. Allah will fill the emptiness, and will comfort and provide for us – and slowly, over time, the pain will subside. After everyone is gone, Allah will still remain, and there is great compensation, so much higher than our sorrow and anguish, waiting for us at the finish line if we bear the loss with patience and trust in Allah.
Like the shifting currents of life, the grief too shall pass. However, life will be different, and one has to accept again that nothing in this world is permanent. Physical and emotional adjustments will have to be made to accommodate the new circumstances. It will take time to fully accept that the person will never be there again. Memories and emotions will come flooding back when we least expect. The healing will take time. But if you are patient with Allah’s decree and turn to Him during your anguish, the peace and calm will return sooner rather than later.
The Relationship After Death
Someone once told me that real test of love begins after death. The sincerity of the love that we felt for the ones who have passed on, will continuously crystallize into our supplications for them, by living out any good legacy that they left behind, and by emulating all the good that they have taught us. Whenever we think about them and feel sad, don’t just think of our own personal loss, but also, the condition of their soul and how we can help them with their lives in the hereafter.
We can still communicate our love to the departed through our dua and our prayers for them. We can beg Allah to bestow His mercy on their souls, forgive their sins, give them ease in the grave, and elevate their stations in the hereafter. We also dignify the dead by remembering their goodness, forgiving their wrongs against us, and by never speaking ill of them or their past mistakes. We can even make dua to be reunited with them in jannah. While we may not see the product of our efforts now, the sincerity and depth of our love will prove itself in the hereafter.
This is how I eventually dealt with my mother’s death. My tears will neither bring her back to life, nor ease the guilt for the times when I should have been a better daughter. I still have a relationship with her – a totally different kind of relationship of course, one in which I pray to Allah to save her from the torture of the grave, reward her with jannah, and to give her a better and happier life than what she experienced during her short stay in dunia with us. I do not know if my prayers have been accepted, so I keep trying. She has been gone for over 20 years now, but I still have the rest of my life to pray for her eternal well being, insha Allah. This realization was the turning point that finally made me cope.
What about our own death?
Death is a humbling reminder of our own vulnerability, fragility and mortality. If there is any other lesson to consider, whenever we witness death we should also wonder who will be next. Could it be us?
Muslims are encouraged to recite Surah Ya-seen on the eve of every Friday as a means of commemorating our departed Muslim brothers and sisters. However, it is also a reminder for us, the ones who are still alive, to remedy our own misbehavior and turn back towards Allah before it is too late.
Visit a graveyard, and you will realize the utter loneliness of those buried there, as years go by, visitors stop frequenting, names fade from headstones and the dead are gradually erased from the memories of the living.
The same way that others have left their own footprints in our lives, what legacy are we leaving behind?
When it is time for us to breathe our last, who will weep for us and why?
Who will remember us and pray for us a year, a decade, a century, after we’ve gone?
What awaits us in the next life?
This is what life, and death, is truly about.
May Allah give us all a good ending, ameen.
