A visit to a Home for the Aged

I wonder how it feels to be unable to communicate with other people, to express your joys and your frustrations, or even mundane things for a simple chit-chat. I wonder what it’s like to want nothing but have someone else listen to what you have to say. Some people find immense happiness just by having someone try to understand their feelings despite their incapacity to communicate, to stop for a while and lend some ears and share some time. Some things in this world are plain heart-wrenching, but they’re there for a reason. It’s up for us to stop and notice them, and do something– anything. One may never know how the simple act of listening can affect a single soul greatly.

I’ve visited a Home for the Aged for the first time, and throughout my stay there, I was having mixed emotions. I was so appalled with what I saw. Truth be said, when I and my orgmates arrived, I didn’t know how to proceed. For a moment, I was just rooted on one spot, looking around—caught off-guard.

Almost all of the elderly in the home was incapacitated. Some couldn’t eat by themselves, most have neurologic problems, some… I don’t even know. There was just a lot to take in at the time, and I was so overwhelmed that I didn’t know exactly what to feel. My heart was crushed with what I saw, no doubt. But more than that… I just felt helpless. My heart went out to the dear grandmas and grandpas, but I didn’t know how best to proceed.

The first grandma that I got to talk to was Lola (Grandma) Antonia. She was sitting in a wheel chair, and I noticed her because she seemed to be having a difficult time eating the soup that was given to her. She said it was difficult to eat because she had no table (the long table could only accommodate a number of them). I approached her and I helped her finish her soup. She was so delighted when I came up to her and offered my help. She looked so grateful that it just broke my heart.

I looked at the other grandmothers and grandfathers, and I noticed all of them were enjoying their soup so much. It just made me wonder how often they get to eat delicious food like that, because they seemed like they get to experience that rarely. Some were asking for seconds.

When I looked around, there was just too much to learn from what was before me—the number of elderly that were sitting (mostly in wheel chairs) in rows, the look in their faces, and the state they were in. Whenever I look at them, the thought that each of them—each of those people is left alone by his or her family. They are in that place because they had no one else to take care of them—most of them probably were deliberately abandoned.

Some of the elderly citizens in the home were having serious neurologic problems—I’ve seen some that are already in decorticated state, some couldn’t move certain parts of their body, one has a gangrenous feet, some couldn’t speak, and the others… I did not have enough time to observe them thoroughly.

I wanted to get to know them, all of their unique stories, but our stay there was not long enough. A number of the grandmas sang us songs, and while they sang, you could see their emotions pouring through. A particular one couldn’t help her tears as she sang. God knows what memories were remembered, or what feelings were triggered.

There really was just so, so, so much that was presented before my eyes… and I tried my best to take them in. But it was just simply heart-breaking. I kept wondering what they might be feeling. Do they still have hopes? Do they still contemplate on their lives, and wonder what happened? Do they wonder why they were left in that place? When I look at them, I just couldn’t begin to imagine what they might be feeling. I am just hoping and praying that in spite of the state they were in, they haven’t given up yet. I hope that in spite of the murky and dark state they were left in, they are still struggling to keep going. I hope they haven’t given up on living.

There were two particular senior citizens that left their respective marks on me quite greatly. Both of them were unable to speak. One of them was desperately trying to communicate with us, and he was telling us one simple thing: his name. He was trying repeatedly to tell us what his name was, but as it appeared, we failed to understand what he was trying to say. Again and again, he tried, but again and again, we failed to understand. He got frustrated, he got mad, and he was so close to crying. I, too, was so close to crying while I watched him try. I was the one trying to coax him that it was alright, but it seemed to me that it was so important to him that we get his name right. That’s all he wanted, it seemed. I just really crushed my heart, but until the very end, I failed to get what he was desperately trying to make me understand. I couldn’t get one thing that he wanted to give me: his name. And it was frustrating. I was just there, trying my hardest to decipher what he was trying to say, but I really just couldn’t get it. Throughout the program, he kept on trying to get my attention just to explain that one thing to me. But when we left, I still didn’t get his name. It was so frustrating and so heartbreaking on my part, knowing that I might have caused further pain because of that. It was heavy. I learned eventually that he was dying when he was brought in the Home. He recovered, and kept on getting better, but he wasn’t able to communicate well.

The other one was the one that touched me the most. She, too, is not able to speak. One time, she was waving at me to come to her, that’s why I noticed her. She was beaming at me so brightly that I just can’t let the moment pass. I walked towards her, and tried to ask her name. But she was only able to make distinct sounds, and then I realized that I’d fail to get her name too. She seemed so happy that I walked to her. I sat on a post beside her wheelchair, and at one point, she reached out her hand. At first, I didn’t know what she was trying to do, and it took me a moment to realize that she wanted to hold my hand. I held her hand, and what took place next surprised me even more. She brought my hand to her lips and kissed it. At that moment, I wasn’t sure if I felt my heart sank to the ground, or did I feel it melt. I was just touched immensely. She looked so happy, and initially, I couldn’t even understand fully why I see so much happiness in her eyes. I didn’t even know what I did that made her so happy. Perhaps, when I sat beside her, or perhaps, it’s because I paid her attention, or perhaps, it’s because I held her hand. I wasn’t sure. I tried to communicate with her by asking questions, and she was trying to respond, and I tried to understand what she was trying to make me understand as much as I can. She showed me her two fingers that are fixed in a flexed position (Benedict’s sign), so I suspected there’s some lesion on her median nerve. But that’s just me guessing. Later, I asked her which among the group is her best friend, and her answer saddened me. She shook her head indicating that she didn’t regard any of the other elderly people in the home as her best friend. I couldn’t just begin to put myself in her situation. I didn’t know how to respond. When we were about to leave, I bid her my good bye, and again, she brought my hand to her lips and she smiled at me so happily. Before I walked away from her, I hugged her tightly, hoping that somehow it may bring her something—perhaps, an encouragement… or perhaps, the simple fact that I care. I quickly wrote a note, and I gave it to her, and she was just too glad. She was so happy with the note I gave her that it left me with immense mixed emotions. I quickly disappeared from her sight because I was so overwhelmed that I was so close to crying, and I didn’t want her to see that.

There was so, so, so, much more from what we saw. Things that they haven’t shared through words, things that we haven’t observed, stories that we haven’t heard… and lot, lot more. So much more. We left there, and we took a lot of things from the experience, yet we could do so little for them. I’m just hoping that somehow, we were able to make them feel that we care, that they aren’t necessarily abandoned, that they aren’t forgotten.

My prayers are with them. I’m praying that somehow they could carry good feelings as they live their lives in this world. I’m praying that somehow their sufferings may be alleviated. I’m praying that somehow… they get through. I’m praying for peace in their heart and mind.

I hope I get to meet them once again.

A message to my Muslim friends, and to you who want to read this

Note: I wrote this last year. I’m posting it now because I badly need a reminder.

There should be many points in our lives where we have to stop and think and reflect on ourselves as to how we’re behaving as a person, as an offspring to our parents, as a friend to our friends, as an individual affecting ourselves and people both in small and large scales, as an individual filling up space in this wide world, and ultimately, as a servant of the Lord, Allah (S.W.T.). We live and experience lots of things each day, and in our busy everyday life, as we go along its seemingly repetitive proceedings, we tend to regress to a certain spot in our life where we don’t perceive the fire that burns every time our spirit is inspired. In other words, the passion which is innate in each of us is extinguished whenever we live each of our days, as if each of them has the same face. That is, when we accept the mundaneness of our daily lives, when we shouldn’t really do.

Extinguishing the fire in us can be ultimately caused by our diversion from our original and main path, main focus, and main purpose. And also, by our tendency, despite of ourselves, of forgetting the one thing that inspires us of living. There are just so many distractions in this world that can divert our attention from our main goal, main purpose. And when that happens, there is a tendency for the burning spirit in us to burn decreasingly until, in worst cases, it is smothered.

This is the reason why, from time to time, we should stop and contemplate about the happenings in our lives, and we should criticize the way we are living our respective lives. We should ask ourselves whether or not we are still living our lives the way we want to, or whether or not we still have that motivation to live our lives the way we want to, or whether or not we are still striving to be the person we want to become, or whether or not we are still treading the path that we are originally treading, leading to our main goal and purpose. Upon reflecting, if we realize that we are somehow diverting away from our main path, we should try our best to get back and tread it once more. We should put an effort to get hold of a torch and light the diminished fire within us.

We are not perfect beings, and we commit mistakes in order for us to realize each of them, and rectify them as much as we can. We should always be aware of our actions, and even of our thoughts. We should constantly ask ourselves if we are still the same person, or have we become someone we want to become or have we become someone we do not want to become. So, yes, again, pause and reflect.

For us, Muslims, although we have an entire year to stop and reflect and reform ourselves, we have a certain and special month for us to do so. And in fact, it is a reminder for us people, who often forget to think back on ourselves that hey, we should reflect and criticize the way we are living our lives. We have a special month blessed to us, for us to become the person we want to be. It is the holy month of Ramadhan, the ninth month of the Hijri, or Islamic calendar. It is such an immense blessing for us as Muslims that I don’t think I can enumerate in this single entry all of the good things that it brings us, and all of the things that it can bring to us, if we allow ourselves to be receptive. This is a big opportunity for us to come in terms with ourselves, by coming in terms with the things that Allah (s.w.t.) Wants us to do. This is the ultimate time for us to re-focus ourselves, and become closer to God, Allah (s.w.t.). This is an unimaginably great blessing that God has given us, a favor to us, for us to come closer to Him. That’s why we should take each opportunity in this Holy Month for us to do what Allah (s.w.t.) Has ordained us to do.

In doing the things He Wants us to do, we purify and cleanse ourselves. We rid ourselves of the dullness that we tend to acquire whenever the fire in us is smothered. This is a month blessed to us to evaluate ourselves whether or not we are still being good servants of Allah (s.w.t.).

So, my sisters and brothers in Islam, I do sincerely hope and pray that we can fulfill our roles in this holy month as servants of Allah (s.w.t.), provided beyond our imaginations with great and innumerable blessings. This is our chance to put ourselves aright, and the chance to thank Allah (s.w.t.), express our gratitude as much as we can so that at least we can express our gratitude even if it couldn’t measure up even a bit to the favors He Has given us. And also, this is our chance to ask for His Forgiveness for all the things that we have done wrong. And for the things that we have not fulfilled, and for allowing ourselves to morph into persons who prioritize other things instead of being good servants of God. My friends, this is our chance to ask for His Forgiveness, and be closer to Him.

Ya, Allah, I do pray to You that We can be good Mu’mins and Mu’minahs so that we can then deserve Your Eternal Love. And I do ask for Your Forgiveness for the things that we have done wrong in Your eyes. May we fulfill our roles as Your Servants in this Holy Month of Ramadhan, and for the coming days, and months, and years of our stay in this world, for us to transcend well in the Life Hereafter.

Allahumma Aameen.

Ahlan wa Sahlan, Shahru Ramadhan! :]

—-

And to you my friend, I hope you can forgive me if I ever have done something wrong, or something that could’ve hurt you with or without my knowledge. Have a happy fasting!

- Shaima

May Peace be upon you all!

In the Name of Allah, the Most Merciful, the Most Beneficient

I figured I should start this right, and by right, I mean, in the Name of the Creator, Allah (swt), just as we (Muslims) should start anything by His Name. :> And there, I did!

I am not new to blogging, in fact, I started when I was probably 16 or 17, but I now have closed the first blog I’ve created. Well, this is because the contents of that one is mostly about my rants and teenage angst, which I now deem embarrassing to be open to public. XD I then opened an account in Multiply, but Multiply is a multi-purpose site, and I want to start a blog which is solely for blogging only, so here I am starting an account here in WordPress. I have actually started an account in Livejournal two years ago, but that one’s an account of my fangirl self. That means, much of the contents of my LJ is about fangirling (well, not really). LOL. That is where I scream my lungs out (virtually) whenever I encounter squee-worthy things about my vast fangirling world. Also, I post my creative writings (short stories, poems, and fanfictions) there. :>

Anyway, about this blog, I intend this to be a blog which can be a benefit to most people. I want to share things that could (hopefully) influence people in a good way. I would post here some of my realizations and thoughts about anything, well, anything under or beyond the sun. HAHA.

I would exercise my freedom to write here, just as I do in my other blogs. I am hoping though that people who drop by here could pick up something that could help them. InshaAllah. :>

And yes, I am a Muslimah.