This morning around 5.30 AM, like every morning for the past two weeks, Isa got up from his floor bed. He made some sounds, letting us parents know that he was awake.
He was looking for me, as usual.
He climbed onto our bed, climbed onto my body, put his head on my chest, and his little hands hugged my body. Then he fell asleep, his body on top of mine.
At times like that, I often wonder – what does this little human see in me that he needs me so much?
I am just a person, just like him. Trying to find my way, and have done a lot of things wrong – to him. I just happened to be his mother.
And he keeps forgiving, and coming back to me as if nothing happens.
I know in Islam, mothers have an elevated status, that even if my son gets married, he still needs to obey me and put me as a priority. It is of an authentic narration from the Prophet that for my son(s), Paradise lies at one’s mother’s feet. Does it get me a sense of superiority? No. Not at all. Who cares if someone’s chances to go to Heaven is at my ‘feet’, when I myself am still struggling to arrive to its Gate safely?
Whenever he hugs me, looking for shelter at my chest as he always do – I am humbled.
Indeed, you can only guess what parenthood can do to you.