One Year Without Sana: A Day of Love, Memory, and Quiet Signs

One Year Without Sana: A Day of Love, Memory, and Quiet Signs Today marks one year since our beloved Sana left us. It still feels impossible to say that. A year since we stood by her side, holding her hand, whispering our love as she took her last breath. A year of navigating a world without her laughter, her presence, her gentle soul. To honor her memory, we gathered today on Zoom—a memorial filled with faces from near and far, all of them touched by Sana's kindness and light. Friends, family, and colleagues shared heartfelt tributes and prayers. What echoed in each word spoken was the same truth: Sana had a pure soul. Her empathy, her smile, her deep love for others—these remain etched in the hearts of those who knew her. Huma reminded us that in our faith, even the prophets endured great trials. Pain and loss are not punishments, but part of our shared human journey. It was comforting to think of Sana resting in a safe place, wrapped in divine mercy, surrounded by love. And yet, as parents, no amount of beauty in those words can erase the ache. There’s a soreness that never leaves. A longing that sits with us every day. This morning, something remarkable happened. Maahir was stirred awake by Mia, our dog, at exactly 4 a.m.—the hour Sana passed. He took her outside, and there, in the early stillness, were butterflies. In the dark of dawn, they fluttered in the quiet air. Butterflies have become a symbol of Sana for us—fragile, beautiful, and mysteriously comforting. Mia adored Sana. She would follow her on long walks, sleep beside her, sense her moods. It felt as though, in her own way, Mia was paying her respects too. The day was heavy, yes, but also full of warmth. The love that poured in from every corner reminded us that we are not alone. That Sana continues to live in the way people speak of her—with reverence, tenderness, and joy. Somewhere, I believe, Sana is smiling. Beaming, even. Because so many remembered her not just with tears, but with deep affection and gratitude. For who she was, and what she brought into this world. This is not the life we imagined—but today reminded me that love doesn't end. It transforms. It lingers. It shows up in the smallest of signs. Even at 4 a.m., in the wings of a butterfly.