Dad’s Health, Rezwan, and Saudi Arabia

Long update from my final day in Saudi Arabia today (please forgive my imperfect writing and likely typos):

Dad is in better spirits and is showing slow improvement. We're still uncertain of when he'll be able to go home, but we're praying that it will be soon. Physical therapy started today and he still can't walk on his own. Dad was happy to see his whole family finally by his bed this week at the hospital. He's still cracking a few jokes through the pain here and there, too. Always reminding me that I need to get married soon. I'm sad to be leaving today without my dad with me, but my mother and brother are staying with him until he can leave - they're doing an amazing job caring for him. Thanks for all your prayers for him and his health. Keep em coming, he can certainly still use them.

On the trip to Saudi Arabia:

I have to admit it: I was very skeptical about visiting Saudi Arabia. Even with the religious significance of Medina and Mecca in Islam, I didn't want my parents to go in fear for their safety. I, too, have been conditioned by news media that the Middle East was a place to avoid. The Middle East harbored terrorists, was unkind to foreigners of different cultures, and is backwards in their belief systems. My experience visiting Saudi Arabia this past week couldn't have changed my feelings more. Yes, there is conservative culture when compared to the west (I certainly disagree with the lack of voice for women in the country), all business stops for the five daily prayers, and we know that there have been terrorists bred from the most impoverished parts(though I didn't bare witness to anything came close to resembling even a minor crime). But the people of Saudi Arabia could not have been more kind and generous to my family.

The hospital that has cared for my father for the last 20 days has been exceptional and does not charge guests of the country at all for healthcare. Speaking no Arabic wasn't a problem since many spoke English and those who didn't were kind and patient with me as I tried to explain my words with bizarre signals and pointing to things. The amount of new "brothers and sisters" (this is they instantly referred to us as) that went out of their way to ensure that we had what we needed were countless. One brother helped us navigate the hospital systems, another helped us get visa stays extended through the immigration office, another guided us to be able to get paperwork that allowed family members to visit beyond the hospital's short visiting hours, another drove us 10 hours to Mecca and back in one day.

Then there was Rezwan. The brother whose father laid in the hospital bed next to mine as we sat in the hospital overnight. Whose first words to me were, "I knew we were going to be brothers right when I saw you". Who begged me to go home from the hospital to sleep and promised to watch both mine and his father at night. He had been visiting from Oman for the Umrah prayer with his father (the same that my parents came for) and his father, like mine, became ill and was rushed to the hospital. When I met him, he had been at the hospital by his fathers side for a full week. He cried and prayed prayed, begging the doctors there to try anything to save the quickly deteriorating health of his father.

Rezwan told me about his life in Oman, the beautiful beaches, how as a Muslim there he felt comfortable there, how his family meant the world to him. He told me about his children, the eldest being a 9 year old daughter. Of course, I asked him about her school. His response was unforgettable: "Oh she doesn't go to school, she has significant special needs that don't allow it. You know, some people, some people would be upset about having a daughter like this, because she needs so much care. But I was so happy and grateful that Allah would trust me to care for her, he believed that I can do it. It is my greatest blessing." (With a big smile on his face). I held back tears as he continued to tell me more stories about his life in Oman. We went back to both our fathers' sides with the same hopes that somehow they would make it out and come home. Then, suddenly there were many of the overnight nurses at his fathers bedside. I feared the worst, but held out hope because his fathers condition required a lot of attention earlier in the week as well. About 10 minutes later, he came to my father and I in tears and inaudibly communicated that his had passed away. He reached out for a handshake and I pulled him in for a hug. He cried in my arms for a bit and then left saying "take care of your dad" and going off to communicate the difficult news to the rest of the family.

I shed a lot of tears next to my father afterwards. I thought about how alone he must have felt at that moment when he got the news. I was shaken at how easily that exact situation could be happening to me alone with my dad on overnight stays. I'd also never experienced death that close nor had I ever been the first to comfort someone mourning the loss of a loved one. When Rezwan left the next morning, the paperwork documenting his fathers passing in hand, he wished us well, "You're father will be better, insha'Allah (God willing). I'm praying for your dad, brother." As he left the hospital for home, I thought to myself that he might be right about us being brothers.

I leave here with a new appreciation for this part of the world and it's beauty (seriously, look at those pictures), Islam and its traditions, the delicious and cheap food on every corner, and all of the extraordinary people here. There is no question that the Muslim world has its problems, but there also isn't any doubt that it is an incredible place with some of the most generous and kind people in our world.

Thanks for reading and for all of your love during this time. Looking forward to being back home soon.

-Adeel