It was completely unpredictable that something was going to happen and that my young, gentle cousin would experience the most difficult trial or that her two young children would become orphans in less than a moment.
As usual, her husband dined and performed the ‘Ishaa’ prayer at home after a long, exhausting day at work. As he folded the rug on which he performed the prayer, he said to her, "May Allah forgive me. I was occupied with work and did not pray at the mosque today." She carried the dishes of food and went to the kitchen. Before she had put them in the sink, she heard a bang and a crashing on the floor. She ran to find her husband lying motionless on the floor. Minutes later, the doctor arrived, turned his hands and sadly announced her husband's demise.
A few days earlier, l had offered condolences to my friend at the death of her husband who fell on the floor of the bathroom while he was performing ablution. He left behind two children; the older is three years old and the other is a newborn. Less than one month later, my husband prayed the funeral prayer over his neighbor whom he had met and greeted on the staircase that morning as the two were going to work. After every consolation, the question that emerged was regarding the last words that the husband said to his wife before he died. Was he pleased with her or not? I was astonished with myself and spoke to my husband about this. He smiled, and said, "Press inquisitiveness." Actually, it was not mere inquisitiveness; my questions were accompanied by intense fear and worry as well as intense certainty. I realized why the Prophet, , warned wives against letting the night pass while her husband is angry with her, and why he gave the glad tidings of Paradise for any woman who dies while her husband is pleased with her.
I was terrified at the thought that a disagreement could arise between me and my husband and we would have a row, then he would go to bed, draw the cover over his head, sleep, and never wake up again. It would be impossible for me to make up with him and see a pleased smile of forgiveness on his lips and a look of tolerance in his eye. I did not ask any widow the questions that I had. I kept my concerns within myself and sought refuge with Allah The Almighty from interfering in other people’s affairs. Since that time, a strange change took place in my life. When my husband goes to bed while I am busy with some housework, I leave the work and go to his bed in order to watch his breath and be certain that it is regular. When he delays a little after the usual time of coming home from work, I sit there trembling behind the door of the apartment as if I am waiting for someone who will tell me what I do not want to hear.
It has become the favorite jest of my husband when I talk to him, to put his hand on my mouth and imitate me saying: "Sweetheart, are you pleased with me," then he bursts into laughter. I have come to ask him this repeatedly after my shock to see the sudden death of three healthy husbands within just one month. The only good thing about these sad feelings is that they alerted me to the wisdom and eloquence of the Prophet, , and made me keener to please my husband. They purified me from the remains of arrogance that sometimes caused me to think that I was not guilty when I really wronged him; and prevented me from thinking that he might die while being angry with me. It has become easy for me to apologize even though I used to find that was difficult for me to do. It has become my pleasure to please my husband after it was just a duty. My husband's waking up and peacefully returning home after work have become the happiest moments of my life after they used to be usual routine. I used to be indifferent to those moments as if I was saying, "It is a routine that he wakes up. It is ordinary routine that he returns home after work." His voice has become more lovable to my ears. When I tidy his study, prepare his food or arrange his clothes, I supplicate to Allah The Almighty not to deprive me of this beautiful effort, the wonderful effort which indicates that my husband is still with me and that he is alive.
I did not want to keep such feelings to myself, I believe that it is a trust and responsibility to transfer it to each wife. How wonderful it is for a wife to go to sleep while her husband is pleased and content with her. If he dies during that night, it would relieve a little of her sadness to know that he was pleased with her. How wonderful it is for the wife to know that her husband was not angry with her or annoyed at some of her behavior when he died. Each Muslim wife, who knows the correct way, should expect the death of her husband at any moment and, therefore, she should not surrender to the feelings of fear and ask herself, "What will I do without him?" She has to love him more and do her best to fill him with feelings of satisfaction and happiness. She has to minimize their disputes, cherish the moments of affection and serenity and not allow them to pass. She has to do only what brings his satisfaction and avoid everything that displeases him.
Many wives are miserable with their husbands and because of them. This really happens. They may be unable to do anything but wish that death would separate them. However, I am sure that they would regret this when the wish is realized, long for the days of their life together and repeat in a sad voice an Arabic proverb that I have recently understood the wisdom of, "His cruelty is better than the emptiness of his place at home."
Moreover, I realized how hasty I was when I harbored enmity towards their saying, "The mere shade of a man is better than the shade of a wall," and considered it a disgraceful proverb that mocked women. The shade of the wall does not provide feelings of security, cordiality nor remove the loss of feelings of loneliness and silence. The shade of a wall is not a being that a woman can belong to or be a member in a family with. Without her husband, a woman is hanging in space. The shade of a man is the shade of a partner, even if he is a contradicting partner. Only a foolish woman wastes the privilege of having a husband and fails to protect herself with him from the coldness of loneliness and the bitterness of regret when it is too late.