Two weeks ago, I had a weird dream. I dreamt of myself dying.
I was lying on a bed, in a place that looked like a hospital, for a reason I didn’t even know.
I was so weak. I could hardly move.
With every breath that I took, I knew one thing for sure ー I had not much time left. Every single inhalation and exhalation was getting harder and painful. It felt as if the air was no longer containing oxygen.
I took another breath, a shallow one, quietly. I looked at the people around me. I could barely recognize any of them. My eyes were looking for a person that I really wanted to see ー my mom. She wasn’t there.
I exhaled very slowly. I could feel how close death was. I felt like I had only three or four breaths left. I was going to die. But I really wanted to see my mom before I go.
I opened my mouth, but I could barely speak. My voice didn’t really come out. I was trying hard to call out for my mom. I wanted to see her.
“Mak…” my voice came out almost inaudibled when I finally saw my mother coming rushingly towards me. I started to cry and at the same time, I tried to lift my hand, but only my index finger moved a little.
My mom, too, was crying when she grabbed my hand with both of hers. She squeezed my fingers gently while the tears of mine rolled off the side of my face before they reached the pillow under my head.
She was about to teach me shahadah when I finally snapped out of the dream.
The dream jolted me awake. And I woke up crying real tears. I suddenly felt so sad.
I reached out for my phone. It was 4 o’clock in the morning and I really wanted to call my mom.
“Every soul will taste death, and you will only be given your (full) compensation on the Day of Resurrection.” (3: 185)