This eid I’m thinking, for the first time, of all the families that will be thronging graveyards today. Some freshly grieved, some carrying years of ache, but all returning again and again in the hope of spending a few more moments with loved ones they lost to illness, to age 1/n

to the unexpected plans life imposes on us. Graves scattered with fresh rose petals, scorched purple in the midday heat, ground freshly watered and soft under the feet and the air still and thick with the smell of flowers and sound of quiet weeping. 2/n

Not the meeting ground we hope for but one we settle at, just grateful to have a place to come say our hellos, our little prayers of ease, to touch the ground and let those who’ve left us know they’re still with us, in moments of joy and deep sadness- they’re with us, still. 3/3