My father passed away recently, and I inherited his wallet. It was almost empty, as my family had spent all the money he had left on tips and payments for the nurses who had taken care of him in the hospital.
After his death, my youngest brother, Amier, asked me for something to remember our dad by. He reminded me of the $3 he had found and given to our dad in 1998, when he was only three years old and we were living in America. Our dad had kept it and told him he would never spend it. He had dated it and written Amier’s name on it.
I told him it was gone, that the money had been taken out of his wallet and spent by the family before we saw dad. There was nothing left.
He begged me to look one more time, saying that dad always had it in his wallet. I thought it was a lost cause, but I agreed to check again.
To my surprise, I found a secret zipper that I had thought was broken and already opened. It was still closed. I quickly opened it, thinking there was no way. But there it was. Four dollar bills, all with Amier’s name and the date 1998 on them.
I felt a surge of emotions as I showed them to my mom, her sister, and my cousin. It was a feeling I had never experienced before. Euphoria, a gift, a sign that our dad truly loved us and missed us while he was in Egypt. Just like we missed him so much. I wished we had gone back to Egypt one more time in 2022 to see him.
I will never forgive myself for the time I lied to him, when he asked if we were coming and I said it didn’t look like it. I hope he knew I made it up and came as fast as I could when I found out he was sick. I didn’t get to see him alive, but I saw him dead. I was with him through everything. I kissed him as he lay lifeless, telling him everything I could. I lifted and held his hand as they washed his body, preparing him for wrapping. I carried his body into the coffin, riding in the car with him. I carried the coffin with the family, placing it in the mosque and praying for him. Then I carried the coffin again to the car, to his final resting place. I lifted his body one more time, taking him deep underground for his final burial. I loosened his sheets, hoping for a peaceful rest.
All the while, I was crying and torn inside, hoping that I had made up for my careless ways. Dad, I’m sorry. You and I weren’t perfect, but I hope I showed you through your final years that I loved you so much and was with you till the very end. I know you felt it. Please forgive me for not being there sooner. You are in a much better place with God now.
Karim Jovian
My Father’s Wallet
My father passed away recently, and I inherited his wallet. It was almost empty, as my family had spent all the money he had left on tips and payments for the nurses who had taken care of him in the hospital.
After his death, my youngest brother, Amier, asked me for something to remember our dad by. He reminded me of the $3 he had found and given to our dad in 1998, when he was only three years old and we were living in America. Our dad had kept it and told him he would never spend it. He had dated it and written Amier’s name on it.
I told him it was gone, that the money had been taken out of his wallet and spent by the family before we saw dad. There was nothing left.
He begged me to look one more time, saying that dad always had it in his wallet. I thought it was a lost cause, but I agreed to check again.
To my surprise, I found a secret zipper that I had thought was broken and already opened. It was still closed. I quickly opened it, thinking there was no way. But there it was. Four dollar bills, all with Amier’s name and the date 1998 on them.
I felt a surge of emotions as I showed them to my mom, her sister, and my cousin. It was a feeling I had never experienced before. Euphoria, a gift, a sign that our dad truly loved us and missed us while he was in Egypt. Just like we missed him so much. I wished we had gone back to Egypt one more time in 2022 to see him.
I will never forgive myself for the time I lied to him, when he asked if we were coming and I said it didn’t look like it. I hope he knew I made it up and came as fast as I could when I found out he was sick. I didn’t get to see him alive, but I saw him dead. I was with him through everything. I kissed him as he lay lifeless, telling him everything I could. I lifted and held his hand as they washed his body, preparing him for wrapping. I carried his body into the coffin, riding in the car with him. I carried the coffin with the family, placing it in the mosque and praying for him. Then I carried the coffin again to the car, to his final resting place. I lifted his body one more time, taking him deep underground for his final burial. I loosened his sheets, hoping for a peaceful rest.
All the while, I was crying and torn inside, hoping that I had made up for my careless ways. Dad, I’m sorry. You and I weren’t perfect, but I hope I showed you through your final years that I loved you so much and was with you till the very end. I know you felt it. Please forgive me for not being there sooner. You are in a much better place with God now.
I miss you so much, Baba.
9 months ago | [YT] | 1,673