Carrying Sana Into Our Celebrations

Carrying Sana Into Our Celebrations Idris is back from his trip, and together we are slowly trying to recuperate—physically, emotionally, and mentally. Life in Chicago has become our safe haven, a space where we can begin to piece ourselves back together. Yet, even amidst this familiar comfort, the heaviness of grief lingers as we prepare for a joyful event: celebrating Maahir and Serena’s upcoming engagement. As we plan the details of the celebration, I can’t help but think about how much Sana would have loved being a part of this. Her excitement and enthusiasm would have been unmatched. I can almost picture her meticulously choosing her outfit, planning her hair and jewelry, and ensuring everything was perfect. Her joy for these moments was contagious. We’re incorporating a henna lady into the festivities, and it instantly brings back memories of Sana. She adored henna. She didn’t need a reason or an occasion to decorate her hands with intricate patterns—it was simply something she loved. As we make plans, I feel a quiet resolve to include her presence in every detail of the celebration. I can almost hear her now, planning a heartfelt speech for her "BB" (her baby brother). She had such a way with words, pouring her love and pride into moments like this. Even though she won’t be physically present, her spirit will be everywhere—in the henna designs, in the laughter, and in the love we share. Recently, a friend of mine lost her daughter in Singapore. We used to work together, and I remember driving her daughter home after picking her up from work. Her grief mirrors mine in many ways, and I often see her social media filled with pictures and memories of her daughter. It makes me reflect on my own posts about Sana. For me, sharing Sana’s photos and stories is more than just a way of coping. It’s a way to keep her alive in the hearts of others. Every post, every shared memory, feels like a reassurance that she’ll never truly be gone. Perhaps it’s also a way of sharing my grief with the world—a way of saying, “This is my pain, my love, and my enduring connection to her.” Idris copes differently. He talks about Sana all the time, weaving her into everyday conversations. For me, posting about her is a way to process, to honor, and to ensure her presence remains visible. It’s how I hold onto her, how I make sense of a world without her physical presence. As we approach Maahir and Serena’s celebration, I know there will be moments of joy, tinged with the ache of missing Sana. But I also know she’ll be there—in our hearts, in our laughter, and in the love that binds us all together. And through every post, every shared story, her light will continue to shine.