Holding their hands for a while... their hearts forever. Mother.

It is said that under a mothers feet lies paradise. For the months which she held you, in our case held two. She would talk to us and tell us to look after each other. In reality she was the one taking care of us. Allah was Taking care of her. For the hours in labour she faced in pain, and yet for such an assault never did she complain. For the years spent weaning, caring and raising, for us to take our fathers name. Why did she only work part time? So her face we’d see after school, be there rain or shine. For the patience endured during moments of rebellion, for the wisdom which penetrated through any advice given. For the warm hugs, the warm words, the warm smiles, for making me feel like her most loved child...and when there are 4 adult children each claiming to be the most loved, that says something.

In her eyes I see love, my mother.

In her arms I feel protection, my mother.

And under her feet I envisage paradise, my mother.