Coffee with Sims|A New Season

Season 5.

If you’re new here, welcome to Coffee with Sims. This is my space, my little corner of the internet where I share my journey – the good, the bad, and everything in between. And this season? It’s unlike any other.

Where do I start?

Let’s see … I’m newly widowed – 11 weeks and 2 days to be exact. I’m now a single mother of two young kids. Everything falls on me now. If you’re new here, welcome. This is my space, my corner of the internet where I share my life – the highs, the lows, and the in-betweens. And this season? It’s different. My husband passed away, and life as I know it has completely changed.

I’d be lying if I said I thought this would be my story. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t scared or felt like I had it all together. I’m alone. I don’t have a lifelong partner anymore, and that makes me sad. I lost my person.

My husband battled Stage IV Colon Cancer courageously for 18 months. We actually found out the news a few weeks prior to Asiyah’s due date. I really thought we were going to beat it. I don’t think I’m ready to speak on it fully right now, but there’s a lot to unpack. One day I’ll write an letter to his oncologist, publicly. There’s so much I need to say – unresolved feeling about a doctor who wasn’t attentive or cared. But for now, I’m not ready to dive into that chapter.

With a heavy heart, I’m at peace. God knows this. Though I’m at peace, the pain is immense. As Muslims, we bury the departed same day if possible, and that was the case with my love. It was on Jummah, Al Hamdulilah, if you know you know a true blessing. I couldn’t have asked for a better ending. I pray for that for myself and for my loved ones, a good ending.

The support has been comforting. I always wondered if offering someone condolences really helps. Turns out, it does. Well, for me it does. I used to think it wasn’t good to bring up the departed because who wants to be the person to remind someone of the loss of their loved ones. I was wrong. I want people to say his name. Fuad. Moyosore. Moyo. Moe. However you knew him, say his name.

I appreciate the people who don’t know me at all or very well, but knew him and reached out. I’ve had a few people stop by the house as well. It’s even sweeter when they pair it with a dream or tell me how good of a person he was. He was truly something special. He is special.

I write to him. I try to daily, anyway. filling him in on my thoughts, my struggles, the latest with the kids. I visit him. When I do, there are tears. I sit and cry. I read the journal entries to make sure he’s up to date, lol. Then I sit in silence, and the tears begin to fall again. I made dua. I read the Quran. Then I get up and walk around the cemetery, reading the names on the headstones, making dua for everyone who has been reunited with their Lord. May God have mercy on all of us. I go back and sit with Fuad some more. Then I go to my car. And it stings. I’m leaving him again.

Want to know something weird? I’ve noticed that if I don’t keep up with my writing exercises and journaling, my world kind of falls part. I realized that this past week. It was heavy. Suffocating, in fact. For the first time, I had to leave work early because I couldn’t breathe in a sense. Even when I “left early,” I just sat in my car- screaming, angry, crying. It lasted two minutes. How do I know the time? Well, it was the latest I could leave and still pick up my son from school on time. I wiped my tears and drove. I called out the next day. I couldn’t move.

I honestly didn’t feel better until yesterday morning. I made an intention before my Fajr prayer. I made dua. I just asked God to make my trials easy for me and to continue giving me strength.

If there’s tone thing God did, it’s give me strength. The day Fuad passed and throughout the burial, all I asked for was Allah to give me strength. And God did. That day was a blur, honestly, and it went by so fast. I barely remember it. Sometimes I wonder what the heck I was saying to people as they talked to me. I feel the heaviness of that day as I type this. I was weak and confused but very aware of what was happening at the same time.

So yeah, here I am. Starting a new chapter. A new season. I’ll say it again: I am scared. I’m scared I won’t be enough. I have two tiny humans that I’m responsible for. I literally have to take care of everything. But, Allah is with me. I’m never alone, even the moment when I feel very alone. Moyosore, not a day goes by that he’s not on my mind.

This is the season of firsts. My first Thanksgiving without him. It was hard. I had a lot of moments where I went to the room and cried- ugly, bawling my eyes out cried. His friends came over, which was a nice surprise, and it was comforting. They even came up with a game called “Moyo once said” or “Mo said,” I’m not sure what that called it exactly, but it was heartwarming. Seeing his group of friends makes me extremely sad, but at the same time, it gives me a closeness to Fuad again.

This season of Coffee with Sims is a season of many firsts. My first season of real grief. I’ve lost aunts, uncles, grandparents, cousins, and I’m not saying I wasn’t effect, but this is different. This is the start of something I never wanted but have no choice but to live through.

Inna lillahi wa inna ilayhi raji’un. This dunya is temporary, and death is ineveitable. But I’m still here, moving forward.

This is season 5.