Death & Mourning

"Thank you for helping me. I can't thank you enough."
After a week of mourning at our place, Noureddine left us.
"I can't stay here. There are too many memories with Amina. 14 years worth."

We had known Noureddine and Amina for several years, starting from when they were neighbors living downstairs.
One day, Amina asked us for The Message. She finished reading it in 2 weeks. This from a high school drop-out. She was curious and asked questions.

Amina, was a great chef, baker, and beauty salonist. She always had a smile on her face. Always joyful.

We all attended a wedding in April. Noureddine and Amina happily danced together.

That changed a few weeks later, when Amina got very sick and went to Casa. She was admitted to the hospital and diagnosed with a form of meningitus. She was supposed to recover, but needed a month of bedrest.

Because they both are from Casa, they emptied their apartment, quickly sold their furniture, and stored their clothes at our home. Medical costs built up. We sent some money to help.

Then, on a Sunday night, we got a call from Amina's mother.
Amina was dead. She was 32 years old.
We were and still are shocked.

After a week of funeral arrangements and receiving relatives, Noureddine landed back here on our steps. He had no where else to go, but returned to see friends, to gather his thoughts, and attempt to move on. It was very hard.
He was and is still mourning. He slept in, got up late and ate breakfast. He would go out until afternoon, returning to eat. Then go out again, mostly to walk the streets. He would return at night and we'd have supper late.

Neighbors walked up to him to bring condolences.
The lady owner of the hair salon shop. Neighbors and former neighbors.

One woman began by saying the "right" religious things:
"God is great. God wanted her. May God have mercy on her."
After she discharged the saying, she began to cry. "Oh, I miss her. I can't believe she's gone. I wanted to come and visit. I'm sorry."

Through the entire week, Noureddine sat with his head hanging low.
He ate a little here, a little there.

We asked him what he wanted to do, now.
He said, "I will go to Marrakesh and start over. I can't stay here."
He gathered his clothes in a few suitcases and rode to the bus station.
"I'll look for a room to rent, and go see my family in Casa. Then, I'll look for a job."

We told him, "Whenever you come to town, you are welcome."
He answered, "Thank you."
And kissed us on our foreheads.