PukhtunWomen

Where blew a flower may a flower no more
Lift its head to the blows of the rain;

There is a sad finality in death, and the permanence of cessation of a once vibrant being is hard to accept. Due to certain events in my life my husband and I decided it was time to have a will.

We went in and met with the lawyer last year in August, but I felt so depressed that I did not have the heart to go in and sign the final draft. In an effort to get myself to sign and get it over with, I scheduled a date only to chicken out at the last minute. My husband went alone and signed. Today our lawyer showed up at the office with the papers and I was forced to confront my fears.

“Last Will and Testament” the document solemnly and silently declared at me, I felt a shiver go through my spine, some one I loved had once told me that such a shiver meant someone had stepped on my grave.

The lawyer and another witness witnessed and notarized the originals and gave me a copy, I felt cheated and when the lawyer said, when the time comes someone named in the will has to come in person to pick up the originals, I started to cry.

What are we, but fragile beings, it is only the whim of atoms that we are who we are and so very easily could have been star dust instead. Last year this time I lost someone who I really admired and loved. When the time came to say goodbye, she was a much stronger person than I will ever be. She serenely asked that I not mourn her death, but to celebrate her life and that I should never dare pity her or her circumstances.

It is April already! The fragrant naranj trees must be in full bloom in Peshawar University and when the wind blow s the petals snow down carpeting the dirt ground, making it pristine white even if for a few hours. I look outside and watch the white dogwood blooms outside my window sway in the wind and yet I can’t shake off this gray feeling.

I am glad we had time to say goodbye. There are still many things I think of everyday that I wish I had said or asked, and there are always the memories that I now share alone.

She did not wish a marked grave and so now there only grows grass in the small corner that she chose as hers. It is hard to believe that under this grass lays a once very vibrant woman, so full and bigger than life that I still have trouble believing it.

I often ask myself if she would be still alive had she made different life decisions, would she have had the will to go on if her child had lived or if her husband had not died in her arms. Sometimes I feel guilty that I could not force her to keep on living.

I am ashamed to say that when she left, I was glad that I would not have to watch her waste away to nothingness. She was not alone, and was surrounded by many who loved her, she never asked for me, but I know I should have gone. I know I selfishly used my children as an excuse of not going.

She asked that we not grieve for her, and I try not to, but there are always those moments of weakness when I fail and I find myself unforgiving and bitter. She personally never held a grudge and said that all that she had decided she had done with a clear conscience and presence of mind and she had never looked back or regretted it. The truth is I believe what she said, but I on the other hand am a weak human and I do not have the depth of her heart or her empathy. I find my self lacking in character and in the depth of love she was capable of.

I just hope that when my time comes I gracefully accept it and through my courage give those I leave behind the courage to go on living.