Remember when it was a wintery Ramadan? And we would, all 8 of us, get up so early for suhoor. It would be so cold that we'd crankily wrap ourselves up in blankets and shiver while eating cereal and milk and leftover dinner. Then we'd pray and fall asleep in the living room until the sunlight started peaking through the curtains. It would tug on our eyelids until they opened, and we'd trudge back upstairs to continue sleep in our beds.
And remember the crowded iftars? Us elbowing each other to see what time sunset was on the prayer chart. Then debating whether to pray or eat first. We'd always eat first. And then sprawled out on the same suhoor couches we'd lay until it was time to get ready for salah. Hours later we were yawning our way up the stairs for a few short moments of rest before having to repeat the pattern.
Our numbers slowly dwindle, and I sigh as I remember days when we were all here, growing up chaotically between meals and prayers.
3 comments:
"Then debating whether to pray or eat first. We'd always eat first." That was my siblings too... I think all big families.. then my dad would insist we all pray first and we'd have to listen. My mom would insist us kids eat something so we don't faint but my dad would be persistent. I miss Ramadan with my siblings, it's too quiet now. Actually what I miss the most is praying Fajr behind my dad.
Sigh. Too quiet these days...
man. my family never even had that argument. we always ate first.
and then things got a lot quieter all at once once the boys started having iftars at the mosque.
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