The Schaapkraal Diaries: Blessed are those who are invited to Makkah

In the name of Allah, Most gracious, Most merciful.

Our parents

It is so heartwarming when our family members and friends are off to the blessed cities Makkah Mukarramah and Medina Munowarah. It takes me right back to a kaleidoscope of memories of our journey – my brother Adli and his wife Sadia and Abubakr and myself. I was about 28 weeks pregnant and Sadia became pregnant in Medinah.

Bumpy journey from Jeddah to Medinah. Salawaat and stops at quaint mosques. Excitement of the sight of the first minarets. Rushing to the haram to give salaams and inhale the sweetest attar at the Beloved Rasululah’s (peace and blessings upon him) qabr. Gliding over cold marble to Fajr solaah. Out of breathe in saf with sisters from all over the world. Sipping chai and friendly Medinite woman putting spearmint in my cup.

Then the first time one dons the pure white ihram clothes, niyyah at Bir Ali, tears and trembling and so humbled to have been invited. The heart is full yet light and excited for those first steps. We arrived in Makkah just as the Fajr solaah ended and the four of us stood on the outskirts of the mataaf. Those first steps down, going down into the valley. As we enter Bab salaam, Abu looks down all the time wanting to see the Ka’aba in its entire splendor. I cannot resist looking, my eyes searching. A corner of the black cloth is enough at every step.

Not believing the invitation until that moment. I place my hand on my womb to feel the fierce kicking and I am at ease knowing that this was my time in kiyaam at the Ka’aba and kiyaam on Arafat and in kiyaam we will be Youmil Kiyaamah. I yearn to go back.

When Ramadhan approaches it is the time I miss my parents most for the last 12 years. I miss that they are not somewhere or anywhere that I may be able to be in their company. My parents’ hajj when I was 11 inspired me that I yearned to go. So count yourselves so lucky to have your parents around and be patient with them. When they are gone there is a void that cannot be filled because you know that they forgive your little debts, take care of your children when you travel, drive them to school, always make duah for you, waltz with your babies, beseech Allah to make you successful, to keep you on the straight path, to fill your heart with love and to forgive your trespasses.

So Ramadhan time I feel closer to them and keep their memories dear and try to be as giving and generous as the example they were to me and make duah like they did for me. I delve into my photos and smile when I look at them at different ages, my Dad looks like Mr Miyagi and today I I'm thinking, hey, the scanner does not work so what’s wrong with the camera. So these are some of the pics that I have of them. I hope with the grace of Allah that I can be a worthy daughter of their efforts.

Plant food and be thankful for parents.

Yasmine