Your Mother carried you inside of her womb for nine whole months, she felt sick for months with nausea, then she watched her feet swell and her skin stretch and tear. She struggled to climb stairs, she got breathless quickly and even a simple task like putting her shoes on was a huge struggle for her. She suffered many sleepless nights while you kicked and squirmed inside of her and while you demanded that she scoffed junk at 3am, she then went through excruciating pain to bring you into this world. She became your nurse, your chef, your maid, your chauffeur, your biggest fan, your teacher, your agony aunt and your best friend. She’s struggled for you, cried over you, fought for you, put herself second for you, hoped the best for you and has driven herself insane with worry for you but never has she asked for anything in return because she loves you and did it all on love alone! Most of us take our Mums for granted but there are people who have lost or have never even seen theirs. If you have a loving Mother who did all of this for you, you are very lucky, never devalue her worth because one day, you’ll wish you hadn’t!
Annen, dokuz ay boyunca seni karnında taşıdı. Mide bulantısı çekti ve sürekli kendini hasta hissetti. Ayakları şişti, vücudu ödem yaptı, derisi gerildi. Sen karnındayken en basit işlere bile nefesi yetmez haldeydi.Çünkü nefesini seninle paylaşıyordu.Mesela merdiven çıkmak için çok çaba sarfetti. Ayakkabılarını bağlamak gibi basit bir iş için bile çabalamak zorundaydı. Sen onu tekmelerken ve içinde kıvrılırken, O çok geceyi uykusuz ve ağrılı geçirdi. Doğumun ise tarifi imkansız bir acı çekmesine yol açtı. Sana sahip olmaktan başka hiç bir amaç için bu acıya değmezdi. O senin dadın, hizmetçin, hammalın, öğretmenin, şoförün, aşçın, temizlikçin, hastabakıcın, en büyük hayranın, en sadık dostun, en yakın arkadaşın.Seni hissettiği andan beri sadece senin için yaşadı ve kendini ikinci plana attı. Sen yedikçe doydu, sen uyudukça dinlendi.Senin için savaştı, savaşıyor, ve hep savaşacak. Senin için umut etti, sana dair hayaller kurdu, senin adına üzüldü, sevindi, kızdı… ve bunların hepsini karşılıksız yaptı. Çevrende annesini kaybetmiş, hatta hiç görememiş insanlar var. Bu birgün senin de başına gelecek.O’na teşekkür etmek için yeterli zamanı bulamayabilirsin. Lütfen her fırsatta O’na kendini değerli hissettir, bunu hala yapabildiğin için de kendini şanslı hisset !
Reblogged this on Survivors Blog Here and commented:
Please meet my dear friend
I love her blog and look forward to each post. Her words and videos reinforce what’s in my heart, the world,is blessed with good. Religion or where we live doesn’t make a person do harm. I read great post everyday with a different view from my own, this difference opens up communication . People do not have to agree to respect each othe, the key is respect. I hope you will visit her site for other mind, eye, heart opening,post.
What can I say now my words are not enough… ahh Thank you so much for all your wonderful words and your very sweet friendly feelings !! I really can’t comment about your so lovely words and fine compliments !!ahh just your deep effective compliments made the tears pouring down……..
You always in my prayers !! May Allah swt give you courage and strength to recover from illness…Ya Shafi !
My sister Semra
Your words have touched my heart since the first visit. I have enjoyed the videos and expanding my knowledge of artist unknown to me. You have graciously answered every question I asked to learn more about Islamic beliefs. You are a very powerful woman, speak your mind from the heart. You are beautiful in heart and mind.
This video brought tears to my eyes. I had a birth mother, not a loving mother. I felt to alone and unloved as a child, a feeling no child can bear alone. My mind so battered there weren’t dreams of having a mother, only of living. Not dining at her and or mine. Watching the end of the video, hearing her pain, her reality hit me like a brick. I pray mother’s will hug their children tighter, tell one more bedtime story. Like the beginning of the video, mother’s can be so amazing.
Like you my friend. Hugs to you. Sending blessing to you and family.
May Allah and God bless us both and the people we love.
Dear sis, I’m very sorry to hear that about you but Indeed, Allah is with the patient.!! And Allah Says in the Holy Quran;
Know that the life of this world is but amusement and diversion and adornment and boasting to one another and competition in increase of wealth and children – like the example of a rain whose [resulting] plant growth pleases the tillers; then it dries and you see it turned yellow; then it becomes [scattered] debris. And in the Hereafter is severe punishment and forgiveness from Allah and approval. And what is the worldly life except the enjoyment of delusion…..Surat Al-Hadid [57:20]
O mankind, fear your Lord and fear a Day when no father will avail his son, nor will a son avail his father at all. Indeed, the promise of Allah is truth, so let not the worldly life delude you and be not deceived about Allah by the Deceiver…Surat Luqman [31:33]
The Prophet Muhammad peace be upon him said “This world is a prison for the believer and a Jannah for the disbeliever”. The disbeliever is not held back from anything and the believer fears His Lord and fears the consequence. The believer is restricted by the Qu’ran and Sunnah. The disbeliever acts like an animal and does as he wishes.
Absorption in worldly affairs breeds darkness in the heart, absorption in the affairs of the next world kindles light in the heart(Uthman RA)
This world is a passing dream which the sleeper is convinced is real, until unexpectedly the dawn of death frees him from this fantasy. ~Rumi
“The world looks stagnant yet it is moving; it looks promising yet it is deceiving.” – Imam al-Ghazali (RA)
May ALLAH give you the Mind of Hawa,Purity of Maryam,Faith and memory of Asiya,… Love of Khadija,Knowldge and patience of A’isha,Emaan (belief) of Fatima, Radiallah’anha & grant you the favor to be with them in Jannah….Ameen ya Rabb !❤❤
je n’ai pas grand chose à t’offrir
mais je te fais un sourire
je n’ai pas toujours les mots qu’il faut
mais j’aimerais qu’ils soient beaux
je ne suis pas toujours là
mais je ne t’ oublie pas
je suis bien loin de toi
mais tu es en moi
Notre amitié n’est que virtuelle
mais je la trouve si belle
Gros bisous bof j’ai besoin de repos
It is He who forms you in the wombs however He wills. There is no deity except Him, the Exalted in Might, the Wise…Surat ‘Ali `Imran [3:6]
Indeed, we offered the Trust to the heavens and the earth and the mountains, and they declined to bear it and feared it; but man [undertook to] bear it. Indeed, he was unjust and ignorant…Surat Al-‘Ahzab [33:72]
Four very light pebbles attached
to flung-sprung rubber band found
between new laid bricks, retrieved
by mound-viewing haze-gazer reminds
him of the day he gave up that for this.
Tall seeded grasses wave as a group
passes and a small bee buzzes with
interest. The man with no plan sees rice
on the land, chattel by cart, its grain
raked onto black plastic on the road.
Some is still standing, Van Gogh’s yellow
landing between green and smoldering
fields. Ggachis fly by, bales are stacked
high, a rooster lets loose surrounded by
mountains’ shapes feathered in as if Ross
took his two-incher and stroked Payne’s
gray in a jagged horizontal line between
white grading to blue atop, and the
harvester’s fog below. Set free again, he
sits looking at ancient burial homes
so rounded and soft, kept mown, who
knows how, in pairs that excite the
dream of the lonely tractor driver
who precisely gathers the rows. He
leaves tracks for spring’s women to sew.
Here comes a guard atop Folk Museum
to punch his post. He doesn’t look hard
or he’d see the forbidden beer that
mimics the color of one more field’s
cloud that floats by but still notices tears.
She stakes her dreams to the field’s love-shielding
grass at the end of her perforated rainbow. He takes his
turn ensured that she loves him by her food shopping,
house cleaning, love making. The hawk’s nest resists
the wind, remains aloft, agape for eggs and hatchlings,
fertile reminders that measuring time, even if only once per
season, does not slow it down; that migrating King Mackerel
offer themselves in massive schools to even amateur anglers,
as buffaloes had before sported to death. Six-toed cats and trans-
continental reunions emit their cosmic hum. Games and big news
keep connections alive. New friends meet old in a town you
haven’t lived in for twenty-eight years. Opposite colors, orange
blue collide, retract, expand over oysters, not slimy to hide pearls,
but slippery to replicate the activities they supposedly support.
Then a bull gator walks out of Lake Alice, scares drunk frat boys
and walks back in without incident. Our corresponding spouses
see the joy, join in the stories, though they are older. Beer
loosens the social bra straps, allowing a free flow of ideas to
sprout forth. Ibis flock issues screams from Payne’s Prairie, let’s
face it, this prairie is a swamp, Audubon’s swamp, thus stinky.
I’d do pretty much anything to have my mother back again. She was all those things you describe and more. I try to be as good a Mom. to my kids as she was to me but often feel I don’t measure up. She made this motherhood thing look so easy but it is a lot of hard work. The payoff is that I love my children with all my heart and soul even through the rough patches.