I say this all the time, but never
enough times: I love my parents. They are my number one supporters and will
always be my role models and friends.
I talk about my mom a lot. All my
friends know my mother and have expressed to me how much they love her. Growing
up, my mother was never just a parental figure. She was and still is my best
friend. Of course, there was a fine line between the two. I have always turned
to her first with my challenges and asked for her advice. I also didn’t have
the relationship that was distant or strictly just respect and fear of my
mother. I have always been able to turn to her with literally everything. If
you know me, you know my mother and what kind of relationship we have. AlhamduliAllah, I wouldn’t change it for
the world.
As much as I speak of my mom and how
blessed and proud I am for being her daughter and inspired I am by her
struggles and success of being a mother, friend, educator and follower of her
goals and aspirations to soon hold a doctorate in education, she is responsible
for only half of who I am today.
I don’t speak of my father often. My
father is, and will forever be, the greatest man in my life.
If my mother is the glue that holds my
family together, my father is the rope that keeps all of us comfortably and
lovingly bound together. Without the glue, we would not be the unified entity
my family is now. Without the rope, the glue would slowly begin to loosen,
leaving us lost.
You know how when you’re young, you
see your parents as your superheroes. Their flaws are hidden and when you begin
to see the cracks on the surface, a little hope is lost? Nearing twenty-six
years of age, with three younger siblings, I honestly believe I will never lose
faith or hope in the unit I call my parents. I understand that perfection does
not exist. I stand by these words, with one exception. My parents together, as
one unit, are perfection. Through all the ups and downs in any of my siblings’
lives, and theirs, they have continued to stand together in a way that I can
only describe as a beautiful blessing from Allah
swt. My parents are not only husband and wife, mother and father, but also
best friends and their greatest support system and forces of encouragement to
each other.
I’ve been trying to find the words to
write about my father, and I realized I can only do it through remembering
situations in which he has displayed all the strengths that I see in him and
pray that I will one day learn to carry.
My father…
Is a loving and supportive husband.
I don’t
believe I have ever gone a day without watching my dad show his affection to my
mom, whether it’s verbally or through small acts. I wish I could count all the
times my dad has spoken of his admiration for my mom to others and my siblings
and I whenever she was not in the room. I can only pray to one day be with
someone who shows his love to me even when I’m nowhere near him.
Recently,
my mother received the California Language Teacher's Association (CLTA) 2014
Outstanding Teacher Award, and at the end of her thank you speech, she ended by
expressing to the packed room of educations, “I want to share a proverb from
the Arab culture that says, ‘Behind every great man, is a great woman who
supports him to achieve success.’ Today, I am saying that behind every great
woman, there is a great man who supports her to achieve success. Without my
husband’s love and support and belief in me that I can do anything, I would not
be standing here today.” This is the perfect example of my parents’ relationship.
Treats his daughters like both princesses and warriors.
Growing up, I never wanted to be a
princess, and no one certainly saw me as a princess. I wanted to be a warrior.
My dad sees all three of his daughters as warrior princesses. It’s more than
just being spoiled. My dad regularly compliments his daughters, not just in
beauty, but for our brains and strengths. When my mother praises me or tells me
I’m beautiful, I glow with happiness. But when my father tells me I look
beautiful and praises me for being independent and fierce, I soar.
Earlier this week, I came home late
from a long day of applying to jobs and working on my writing. I was exhausted
and stressed out. I was about to go off about the struggles of finding a stable
job when my dad randomly smiled at me and said, “MashaAllah! You look so beautiful!” He made a small dua’ for me and
gave me a kiss on the cheek, coming in for a warm hug. It stopped me in my
tracks. I looked down to see what I was wearing. It wasn’t anything
particularity fancy, but there was my dad telling me how lovely I looked
despite the frown on my face. I couldn’t help but smile, “Shoukran, baba!” And
then of course returned to my venting.
A few weeks ago, my sister was
discussing make-up foundation with my mom. Personally, I have never worn make-up
and aside from eyeliner I couldn’t name anything sitting on a make-up counter
to literally save my life. Both my dad and I were in the living room, but not
actually in the conversation. My dad suddenly looked at my sister and said, “You
know, if you didn’t stress so much, you wouldn’t think you needed this stuff.”
My sister, already stressed, huffed that my dad didn’t understand. My dad shook
his head and turned to me to explain, “I meant, she doesn’t need makeup. She’s
beautiful. All my daughters are beautiful.” He stated it as a clear fact, unable
to understand how we couldn’t see our own beauty.
Makes sure
his children understand the blessings of being strong, fierce, and independent.
Growing up, my dad constantly referred
to his children as stubborn and determined. It was a compliment. Being
independent and driven to accomplish whatever we set our minds on, was
something to be proud of, whether it was for my sisters and I or my brother. Whenever
my dad mentioned any strong quality in my siblings and I, he would try to
deliver it in a serious tone, but I always saw that smile of his on the ends of
his mouth, threatening to turn into a grin. A fierce woman is not to be feared,
but to be celebrated. Islam (not to be confused with culture) gave women all
their rights, long before the United States or any democratic country. The
strongest women in history can be read about in the stories of the Prophet
Muhammad (PBUH) from Khadija to Aisha, may Allah be pleased with them. My dad
makes sure that both his daughters and son understand the importance of women
having rights in Islam.
Believes in
the importance of education, especially for women.
If there is anything that my dad has
instilled in all his children, especially for his daughters, is that we must go
as far as we can in our education, no matter what field we choose.
Without my father’s encouragement and
motivation, I knew that my mom was hesitant to go back to school with four
children. My dad pushed her to return to her passion of learning. After her
M.A., my father insisted that she go after her Doctorate of Education. He knew
that my mom has always dreamed of it. During that first stressful semester, my
mother decided she was going to quit. At the end of her first course, my dad
walked in with a gift for her. He had made a special order for a beautiful hand
carved wooden name plate that had her name followed by Ed.D carved into the
wood. My mom argued that she may not make it to the end and my dad, with
complete confidence, told her there was no doubt about her receiving her
doctorate. We would all definitely see her walk across that stage. Sure enough,
my mom is currently finishing up her dissertation.
While attending UCSD for my
undergraduate degree, I lived away from home. I called each of my parents
separately every single day. My mom would ask the basics: have I eaten? Slept?
Attended class? My father was quite the opposite. I always called him later in
the day because our conversations were always longer. He always remembered the
exact exams I was taking and when, despite how many times I wished he would
forget so I wouldn’t be asked, “How was the exam? Did you do well? AlhamduliAllah, thank God, is not an answer.
Thank God you did well or thank God you did horribly?” I secretly worried when
he would pick me up to go home for the weekend only because he found it
necessary to turn the entire conversation onto me. I was always the main focus
and my education and future was always the topic. Numerous times, he would
explain to me that no matter what I chose to do, I had to continue my education
and find a stable job that I was happy in to support myself. He explained that
when I get married, my husband and I would be a unified team. We must support
each other and care for each other as one, even if that meant to financially
support each other. It has always been important to stand strong and
independent. My education was always so important that he didn’t want me
working if it took away from school. School always came first.
Is an open-minded father who encourages and welcomes
discussions.
My dad
and I don’t agree all the time. With our disagreements come long discussions.
He always welcomes a healthy discussion. If one of my siblings or I come in
full force with an argument, he listens to our entire side first before
deciding on his response. He insists we sit down and hash it out. His reasoning
and calculative way of responding to situations is why I always told my dad
first when I made large decisions.
When I
took on a photography minor, I called my dad. He didn’t understand why I would
want to spend time on something that wouldn’t benefit my future. I explained to
him I was passionate about photography and wanted to expand on my skills.
Despite telling him it would be costly, he said if it would make me happy and I
could use it in the future, to go for it. I asked him to not tell my mom so
that I could tell her. The instant I hung up with him, I knew he would tell my mom
right away. They were a team. I called my mom and sure enough she wasn’t happy
I told my dad not to tell her and couldn’t see the reasoning in doing a
photography minor. Reminding them both I was still on track to go to law
school, they supported me.
When I
wanted to switch my major to Literature/Writing at the beginning of my Junior
year of UCSD, I told my dad first. He recalled back to when I was a child and
showed him the first picture book I had written and illustrated, and reminded
me of every school projected that I turned into an illustrated book. He would
support me on one condition, that I would sit down and understand that I was
taking a very risky step that needed a concrete plan if I still wanted to go to
law school. My mom wasn’t happy about it. My last year of UCSD, while my mom was
at Hajj, pilgrimage, I called my dad
and to inform him I pushed my Literature/Writing to my minor and went back to
Political Science – International relations as a major in preparation for law
school applications. Again, he supported me but asked for a plan for my future.
The
biggest step I took in my life, aside from streaking my hair royal blue in
college (yea, that happened), was informing both my parents together that I was
applying to MFA programs and not law school. My dad was the first one to support
me. I know for a fact, it took some time for my mom to understand my decision
and finally get on board. It still makes my heart soar when I hear someone ask
my parents what I do and they excitedly explain I hold an MFA in Creative
Writing and I’m a writer. My dad was there from step one, even back before I
could admit to myself that I would indeed become a writer.
Is the perfect example for his son of what a strong man needs
to be.
My
brother is very close to my dad, and not just because he is the only son. With
four strong women in the house, I know it gets very crazy to handle for my dad
and my brother. Growing up, my father has shown my brother through actions the
importance of respecting not just his mother and sisters but also every single
woman. This has made my brother a close friend for my sisters and I. I see
qualities I admire in my dad that are mirrored in my brother. Just like my dad,
my brother regularly compliments my mom, my sisters, and I. He doesn’t hold
back from genuinely telling us we look good or if not, then he says we look
“comfortable”. He constantly compliments our strengths and tells us how much he
believes in us and our dreams.
Is the
example of a hard working man.
Although I was born in the United
States, both my parents didn’t gain citizenship until a few years after
arriving in the United States due to the Gulf War. My dad came to the United
States as a respectable civil engineer. However, to work as an engineer here,
it would take years of learning about the system in the U.S.A. and a large
amount of job applications. While trying to find work in his field, to support
my mother and I, he started as a carpet cleaner. He then went on to work at a
gas station and became manager. During his time working at the gas station, he
also worked as volunteer at an engineering company. All the while, he continued
to apply to engineering positions. After five years at the gas station, when he
couldn’t find work in the states, he tried moving back to the Middle East to find work and bring us there. My mother,
siblings, and I had to endure six months without him. Knowing it would be
difficult for us to move back oversees after living in the United States, he came
back, studied on his own, self-taught himself the programs being used here,
took the exams necessary, and finally secured a position with the city of San
Diego, where he is now a Project Manager. My dad has taught my siblings about
what it takes to work hard and succeed, rising from the bottom to the top.
Is a man of deen, faith.
My dad has raised his children within
Islamic principles and morals. After praying Fajr, the prayer before sunrise, I sometimes go downstairs to get a
cup of water before getting a bit more sleep. What I have never told anyone, is
that I’m not actually thirsty in the morning. I only go downstairs if I hear
movement because I know that after Fajr,
my dad likes to sit on the couch and read Quran. My mom always tells us how
jealous she is of the amount of times my dad finishes recitation of the Quran
during the year. If there is anything I want to be jealous of when it comes to anyone, it’s their deen. I don’t mean
jealousy in the vicious form, but jealousy in striving to make myself better to
reach the status of deen in the
people I love and admire for the sake of Allah
swt.
My dad constantly reminds his children
to put their tawakul, trust, in Allah swt and work for His sake. At UCSD,
the Muslim Student Association holds a Grad Banquet for the graduates at the
end of the year. A person is secretly chosen for each graduate to speak about him/her.
For me, the Grad Banquet committee chose a friend who lived with me for only
the last year at UCSD, and we weren’t even roommates. I was surprised at how close we had become. Her entire speech about
me revolved around what she referred to as “Haneen’s motto in life”. I was
unaware that everyone was aware of my heavy use of the words “InshaAllah Kheir”, or God-willing good, in every situation. It was how I
viewed each situation, with positivity and placing my tawakul in Allah swt. This is still the way I am seen now. This
was something ingrained in me by my parents, but more so something constantly verbalized
by my father.
Deen,
and pure intentions in doing everything for the sake of Allah swt, is the first
trait I look for in a man. The way that someone holds their deen tells me everything about a person,
from the way he holds himself to the way he treats others.
Is quite
possibly the most sarcastic and emotionally filled man I know.
If you know me, you know how sarcastic I
am, with limits, of course. My father loves to have fun. If he’s not reciting
Quran out loud just because he feels like it, you can occasionally find him
singing or dancing around with my little sister. Laughter is a constant sound
in my house. Growing up, and even until now, when my siblings and I are in trouble, it takes us a
few minutes to figure out if my dad is being serious or if he’s joking around
with us. I can’t live without laughter and a sense of humor in my life. As Mahmoud
Darwish the illustrious Palestinian poet, said, “Sarcasm helps me overcome the
harshness of the reality we live, eases the pain of scars and makes people
smile."
My dad is never afraid to show
emotion, from shedding tears when my mom receives awards to expressing to my
brother how much he loves him when my grandfather, God bless his soul, passed
away. I’m a very private person and don’t show much emotion, other than
sarcasm. My dad always has a smile on his face, even when going through
something tough. He tries to keep any of his worries away from us, so that we
never have to worry.
When it comes to affection, my dad is
a big hugger! When arguments have gotten heated between he and anyone in the
house, I’ve seen him defuse the tension by just giving the person a huge hug.
It’s funny watching one of my siblings try to outrun my dad’s hug and big
smile when they’re frowning.
Respected for his love and generosity more then anyone else
I know.
When I
visited Palestine in fall of 2012, I was treated like a queen. This was not
because anyone knew me. Sure, everyone knew my incredible parents. Ninety-nine
percent of the time, I knew for a fact – whether understanding on my own or
being told by someone – that the royal treatment I experienced – not just by my
dad’s brothers and family, but by every single person who knew my dad or even
heard of him – was because of the love and respect everyone has for my dad,
simply because of his generous heart and contagious smile.
Taught his children the proper way to treat our parents and
siblings.
My dad
left his parents’ house for college, when he chose to attend university in
Egypt. He has been the only one to move to the United States and be so far
away. Despite this, from weekly phone calls to actions, his love for his family
is absolutely indescribable. When I visited Palestine at 12 years old, I still
remember my paternal grandfather, God bless his soul, and his admiration and words of
love for my dad. My paternal grandmother, God bless her soul, and her love for my father
was so strong that I could feel it enveloping all his children. I will never
forget that ever since I was a child, my dad’s calls to my grandmother would
ALWAYS begin with, “Asalaamu Alaikum, sitt el habayib”, meaning the mother of
all the love.
Years after my paternal grandparents passed
away, God bless both their souls, my father still makes it a priority to call
my uncles and aunts to check on them and their families. He also insists that
my siblings and I keep connections with all my aunts, uncles, and cousins on
both sides of the family. My dad is not the oldest in his family. He is the second
youngest of nine children.
I didn’t
know my father’s parents well, and truth be told, aside from pictures of when I
was a baby living overseas, I only remember meeting them twice – when I was
eight and then again when I was twelve, each for about two months. Despite this
fact, being raised by my dad, I know that my paternal grandparents were
absolutely incredible people for raising the man I call my father.
He is my dad, father, friend, one of the greatest role
models, and strongest man in my life.
I have
been told that what I want in my ideal husband and the man I want to spend the
rest of my life and Jannah, heaven, is
too high, even unreachable. Can you blame me?
I asked each of my siblings, “In one sentence or brief statement, how would you describe
baba to a stranger or how would you describe your relationship with him?”
Bilal (brother, 22 years old): “My father is so loved by people that meet him that even
my friends who have only met him once or twice ask me how he’s doing whenever
he’s brought up. He has the biggest heart imaginable and his warmth encompasses
more than just friends and family but everyone he comes in contact with.”
Batoul (sister, 17 years old): “Baba is a comedic character with a young soul and a big
heart.”
Bara’ah (sister, 12 years old): “My dad is a hardworking and dedicated to what he does.
He is caring, loving, helpful, and always stays positive. I love him with all
my heart! We are very close. (:”
[I
included their ages to signify the different stages they are in life.]
What I
have written about my father will never come close to describing how I see him
or who he really is, but I felt the need to at least try.
What I’ve been
trying to write all along is, Baba, I
love you! May Allah swt give me the opportunity to make you proud and gain your dua’ and blessings, always.
Quran, Surah Ibrahim, 14:41
رَبَّنَا
اغْفِرْ لِي وَلِوَالِدَيَّ وَلِلْمُؤْمِنِينَ
يَوْمَ يَقُومُ الْحِسَابُ
Rab-ba-nagh-fir lii wa
li-waa-li-day-ya walil-Mu’mi-niina Yawma yaquu-mul-Hisaab!
41.Grant Thy forgiveness unto me,
and my parents, and all the believers, on the Day on which the (last) reckoning
will come to pass!”
Quran, Surah Al-Isra’, 17:24
وَاخْفِضْ
لَهُمَا جَنَاحَ الذُّلِّ مِنَ الرَّحْمَةِ وَقُل رَّبِّ ارْحَمْهُمَا كَمَا رَبَّيَانِي
صَغِيرًا
Wakh-fiz la-humaa janaa-haz-zul-li
minar-rahmati wa qur-Rab-bir-ham-humaa kamaa rab-ba-yaanii saghiiraa.
24. And make yourself submissively
gentle to them with compassion, and say: “O my Lord! have compassion on them,
as they brought me up (when I was) a child.”
WaSalaam,
Hanoon
WaSalaam,
Hanoon
