July 6, 2014
You were a father figure to all; your gracious goodwill and charming personality cultivated in your heart an everlasting affection and a warm and welcoming smile to friend and family member alike. There’s a reason the term is “grand” father. The tasks you completed in your lifetime, the help you willingly offered others, the hospitality you showed to those who needed it—were nothing less than grand. Everyone who spoke of you recalled with nostalgic reminiscence the way you opened the doors of your home to strangers and family, the way you put aside your own needs to please your family and your children.
Your best traits—and you had nothing but the best of traits—were passed on to your sons and daughter. You had the qualities of a leader and the heart of the strongest believer. I have seen these qualities mirrored in my own father, who has always taught me to lead, not follow. I know without a doubt that he got that attitude from you; you, who spoke your opinion aloud to those whom you thought needed to hear it; you, who would stop at nothing to right a wrong. You, who stood at the head of the table at my first birthday, smiling from ear to ear, with a love that radiated far brighter than the candles in the cake. I thank God that Baba had a knack for photography, and that he documented what seems like every second of my infancy. Today I went back and I looked at these pictures, these memories of a time to which I sometimes wish I could return. I looked at these pictures and I realized how lucky I was to grow up in your arms, to learn your name and hold your hand, to be counted among the many who can say that they were spoiled and loved by Sayed Ahmed Abdalraheem.
I will not say that your passing is easy, Jiddo. It isn’t. I don’t think even you realized the love and admiration and respect I had—and still have, and will always have—for you. You have given me the courage to stand up tall and speak my mind, like you. To be generous and put the needs of others before my own, like you. To lead and be strong, and to lend that strength when those around us can’t bear the burdens that life often sees fit to hand us. Like you. I am proud to say that I want to be just like you, for you were an exemplary role model. What strikes me the most is that you did what you did, not out of a sense of duty or because you felt you needed to fulfill an obligation, but because it was within your nature to do good. You were always prepared to sacrifice your needs for the sake of something greater, and I pray that someday God will grant me the same wisdom.
In the end, the heart that you nurtured so well could not withstand the love that you allowed to grow within it. And my heart, like yours, can only take so much. But I will stay strong, for you. I will keep going through the pictures, and I’ll share the cherished memories I have of you with Ahmed, Lena and Rayan, who don’t have as many recollections of you as they would like to have. I have not cried the last of my tears, but I have hope that your legacy will travel through the generations, insha’Allah, so that your death will not have been in vain. We will all strive to accomplish what you were able to achieve in your lifetime, and may Allah give us the strength and the willpower to live long, healthy and productive lives, so that one day, I can tell my children about their late great-grandfather. I’ll show them the pictures, and I’ll pass on your stories, and as we laugh and cry and recall the past, we will all keep praying to Allah (SWT), to allow us to be just like you.