Grief is a funny thing.
The breadth of its intensity;
The randomness of how, when and in what way it materializes;
The absolute lack of respect it has to one’s state of heart or mind.
Sometimes I’d be washing dishes and my call to my siblings letting them know our dad has passed plays in my head.
Other times, the smell of heat and humidity brings me back to a nostalgic moment in my childhood and leaves me with a sense of sorrow over simpler times
And then many times it belies the smile I wear throughout my day
It has no rhyme,
abides by no law and
is in full control of how brief or how long it decides to visit
We all react to it differently,
deal with it differently,
express it differently,
but it remains the same;
An invader that pillages one’s heart and mind
Palestinian, Muslim, American, Husband, Father, Academic, Pharmacist, Coffee Addict, Nutella phene, Pseudo writer, Soccer player, former Canadian, Community servant, Pinch hitter imam, interfaith ninja, Intellectual vigilante, and the undisputed KING of snark