Yesterday a mail arrived for my mother. It's an invitation from some very keen real estate agents for my mother to purchase properties in London. It is very kind of them but alas, the junk mail is ten years too late, for my dear mum passed away in May 2002.
I just shared this on Instagram, and an old friend advised me to unsubscribe from the sales mailing list. But of course, that mailing list is floating and being circulated with God-knows-who-else and I think to attempt to stop further junk mails to my late mother would be like trying to plug a rainy sky with a cork.
Saying that however, I don't mind reading my mother's name anywhere I may find it, or as in this case, anywhere it may find me. Above the epithet of her gravestone, in the wisdom of my aunties, playing upon the smile of my son or simply printed on a junkmail postcard... it is still a reminder of her.
Have a lovely thoughtful day, sunshine.
wa min Allah at-taufiq
Hate has no place in Islam
Love will show the Way
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