"Uncle F" A Story With My Father Friend...
The other day, I thought about my father's friend who passed away a few years ago. Let's call him "Uncle F" for now. I mentioned him somewhere online, and I decided to share the story here too.
Uncle F. was an old man, single, (I'm not sure if he married and divorced,) as early as I was aware of him, he had no wife nor children. He was one of my father's co-workers in his old business. They were a dozen or so of them, and I believe all of whom have passed away by now except my father
Uncle F. lived alone. I remember visiting his old house outside the city, almost falling apart, a few times. He was getting old, so my father used to help him when he needed more hands, such as driving him to the hospital, and bringing him his medine from the city.
When Uncle F. became too old to live by himself, my father brought him home to live with us. We gave him the guest room and even prepared a bed for him. (We don't sleep on beds, but mattresses. Nowadays, the bed is given to whoever is sick in our house.) My father even made it upon himself to prepare his friend's meals every single time he was able to. (Mom would cook for us, and Father would cook for his friend.) He didn't want us to feel his friend was a burden. Personally, I never felt he was.
I still remember going to his room to give Uncle F. his lunch and dinner. رحمه الله. It was both tragic and wholesome to talk with him back then.
For a while, my father wanted to find if Uncle F. had any living relatives. The man cut off his ties to his family when he was young. My father didn't know who they were. Just the family name and his tribe's old location.
That is, until one day my father found his brother who lived many cities away. Uncle F. wasn't on good terms with them. We arranged a surprise meeting between them, and it went, well, I think... It took a lot of convincing to make them forgive each other. I don't know the details, though.
After months of back and forth, Uncle F's brother took him to live with the rest of their family. A little less than a year after that, Uncle F. died.
We were told he prayed for us, every day up until he died. His brother even said that Uncle F. kept telling them he was treated better at our house. Never felt so proud of my father.
As for Uncle F's family, we still have connections with his brother nowadays, and our last call with him was the previous Eid. I believe we were invited to his son's wedding a few years ago, but since their city was far away, we declined. Or was that my father's other friend? Maybe I'm mixing stories now.
Anyway, that's all I had to share. I don't have a lot of friends myself. I'm never as close to them as my father was to his. To me, they sound like battle comrades, having each other's back. I don't think I can do that to people...
Still...
Do good, and God will always bring people who take care of you when you need.
- Image is created using VeniceAI and edited with ChatGPT. It's quite good!
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