I’m one of those people who are never prepared for Ramadan. A month before it’s on my radar, I see the multiple countdowns online and my brain acknowledges that it is rapidly approaching. About two weeks before Day 1, I make mental notes of everything I need to do, especially making a breakfast grocery list. But I do not make any concrete movements because I’ve time. The next thing, I know it is a day or two before Ramadan and I’m operating like a chicken without its head. Mentally and physically running around like crazy and making a last-minute grocery store run, hoping that I have everything I needed. Also, mentally preparing myself for nights at the masjid making Taraweeh and debating with myself how many iftaars I plan on hosting, normally it’s one. While hoping that Hafsa’s school schedule and our work schedules can let up for the month so we will not get burned out.
But this Ramadan, things were different. I was watching the Ramadan countdown while watching the numbers of those infected with Covid-19 increase. I was trying to prepare for Ramadan, while others were preparing to grieve for their loved ones.
As the majority of the city and states started issuing “sheltering at home” ordinances, I naively thought that they would be temporary. That we, society, and life would be back to normal in a few weeks or a month at the most. I thought that coronavirus along with the shaitan would be locked up before Ramadan started.
“But they plan, and Allah plans. And Allah is the best of planners.” (Al-Quran Surah 8. Al-Anfal, Ayah 30).
For some of us, it’s week 8 of “sheltering in place” for others maybe longer or shorter. And for Muslims, a third of Ramadan has passed. In my lifetime, I have never experienced a Ramadan like this, being physically away from the masjid, its community, and those traditions that come with being present at the masjid.
No matter where I’ve lived, I have had the privilege of attending the masjids that welcomed women. Currently, I live roughly 15 minutes away from three separate masjids. Spending nights at the masjid, talking, laughing, and catching up with others, especially praying toe-to-toe and shoulder-to-shoulder with friends and strangers, helps put me in the Ramadan mood. It has become one of my favorite times of the year. Every year, there is the older sister with her adult daughter, who walk around the playground chatting before Salat. Then there are the children running back and forward, some with shoes and others without, from the playground to the masjid laughing. There’s the impromptu soccer game between the younger bros and those who still feel young at heart. A part of the parking lot was closed off so the children can run freely. But they have to navigate around those playing basketball. I sit outside on the picnic tables, laughing and catching up but also keeping an eye on the playground for Hafsa. There are kids jumping off of the slide and the swings. While the younger ones are underneath having a tea party with dirt. The older teenage girls are huddled in a corner chatting. Between the people double parking, the children’s noise, the men loudly politicking about this and that, it is a chaos. But I welcome that chaos every year because that is a part of Ramadan.
As Hafsa has gotten older, I have shared this experience with her and it has become a part of our Ramadan traditions, along with eating cake on the first night. I welcomed the time when Hafsa could be one of those children playing with such freedom on the playground. She hit that milestone a few years ago, and now she has embarked on a new one, praying shoulder-to-shoulder with her friends.
But the coronavirus happened and we had to pivot to find another way. Admittingly, I struggled with how to celebrate Ramadan and provide Hafsa with memorable experiences without the masjid, the community, and her friends.
As the days grew closer to Ramadan, I was disappointed, sad, and defeated. And feeling guilty because how can I feel anything but gratitude when me and my family are safe and healthy, while others are not. All I have to do is stay inside while others must work or care for the sick. I felt like I had no reason to be down.
Alhamdullilah, I was able to examine my feelings with my therapist. She was able to validate my feelings of being heartbroken about not being able to share all of the Ramadan experiences with Hafsa but also to reiterate that it is okay to be sad even during this time. She told me that we are allowed to feel sad and disappointed but we cannot wallow in them. That we have to “put on your big girl pants” and deal with it.
The vision I had of Ramadan 2020 is gone, packed up, and left with no return date. But now I have the opportunity to create a new vision. I had to ask myself what can we create as a family with more time since we would be running around less? What do I want a sheltering-at-home Ramadan to look like? What is the goal of Ramadan and how do I plan on achieving it?
Armed with these questions, I was able to write down my vision for this new Ramadan experience and share it with my husband. Now, my Ramadan 2020 is different than my 2019, but in some ways, it is better. Because we have no school to rush off for first thing in the morning, our sleep is better. Because we have no work commute, our attitudes are better because we do not have to deal with drivers. Because we have no Taraweeh at the masjid, we can spend more time chatting and bonding at dinner. Because we have no friends’ iftaar, we have more time together strengthening our family’s relationships.
Now, we have the time to fully embrace other aspects of Ramadan and create new traditions, including virtual iftaars with extended family, new service charity projects, listening to the many lectures. The hustle and bustle that I had come to associate with Ramadan have been replaced with the calm, loving cocoon of this new family-centered Ramadan.
There are blessings in every struggle. I have learned that coronavirus has given me a unique opportunity to stop and reflect on how I want to be as a Muslim, wife, and mom. One of the benefits of reading the Quran, fasting and praying extra prayers to increase your knowledge to be a better you. Now, I have the time to ask myself am I satisfied with who I am or do I want to be someone different.
Ramadan is a time for self-reflection. We now have the time to reflect, especially on the blessings that Allah has bestowed on us.
*This is my experience, which will not be the same for everyone. I am fully acknowledging and aware of the privilege that comes with being able to work from home, not being an essential worker, whose extended family has fully recovered from Covid-19, etc. May Allah, bless everyone who is sick with good health and a quick recovery.
