...

Mum left last Wednesday (15th), and we all went to the airport to see her off. When will Allah allow me to see her again? There is something else, though - before she came, there was something about being here...strandedness, desolation, maybe? But since she's been here, it's like the house has absorbed her presence, as somehow it feels like she's still here - maybe she's in the other room, maybe she's sleeping - maybe. Because she has been here, even if she isn't now, and the house remembers it. I can see her, sitting on the piano stool, I can hear her moving around in another room, I can feel her sleeping. I can feel her happiness in being with us, equal only to our happiness to be with her.