A telling, a tear and then glorious oblivion......

Wednesday was my day to go to Al Azhar and talk to a sheikh. I had it planned in my mind for days. Since I had recently spent an entire day out with my 15 yr old, I decided that I'd take my 12 yr old with me. Not to come inside with me..... just so that I would not be alone that day. She could hold the baby while I went inside. Wednesday.

I realized that although my mind was ready for the mission....that I still had this sort of laziness in my bones concerning this. What happened to my plan of being up and out by 9 am? 10 am? Well, we finally rolled out of here by 11:30 am. Alhamdulillah. Did you know that I didn't even know exactly where I was going? Yeah! I had been beside al Azhar before and had the general idea. But I wasn't exactly sure. I was just leaving it to Allah. I'll get there somehow.

I even laughingly told my online buddy. "BTW, I'm not really sure how to get there, u know?" and she was helpful...she said..."Its by the Citadel." In fact, THAT word helped me. While I was going along the road that I remembered (from over a year ago!)....I saw a sign saying Citadel and followed it.....yes...it felt right. And then...BOOM, there was the exit saying Al Azhar, turned right, parked the car and there I was. It was soooo easy. Alhamdulillah. Really, thanks to Allah for finding it so easily. (and actually getting a parking space right across from it, although I had to argue with the parking attendant cuz he was saving it for someone else....HAHA!! $2 LE fixed that problem fast!)

We got there and took a number, 60....sigh. But hey...they were already on 48, so this was good! I took my daughter and sat in the mosque until they would call us. Fed up Precious Baby and then laid him on the carpet in the mosque. He chose this moment to flash us one of his rare smiles. Masha Allah. I sat there looking at the people, who like me, were coming to seek advice, fatwas and possibly some salvation. There were many.

When finally it was my turn, I steeled my nerves and walked in. There was a sheikh sitting at a desk, and behind the seat I would sit on, two more. One I suppose was an observer, and the other a trainee. I sat down and began. I explained my situation well, sticking to the facts. I explained my actions, and explained some of my husbands recent actions. I did not cry.

The sheikh asked me some questions and I answered. At one point, my voice got that flutter in it that is a warning to the presence of tears behind the eyes. I stopped for a second, put my head down and took a deep breath and then continued. Waver was gone. I had control. Alhamdulillah.

The Sheikh advised me at first...that if I am able to be patient and handle things, that is best. (I was prepared for that.) So I pointed out....that I've been handling things for 2 yrs, 9 mos of unfairness and horrible phone calls and occasional swearing at me in arabic.

He stopped. I asked him to explain the difference between Khula and divorce. I found out something of Egyptian Law with the explanation. With Khula you give up:

-your mahr that he paid, the Moakher and heritage when he dies, your shebka (gold), and the right to receive 1/4 of his earnings.

Okay....WOW! 1/4 of his earnings?

The Sheikh then asked me if I would be able to raise the kids by myself and if I would be able to handle that responsibility well. Again I pointed out that I have been in Egypt almost 7 yrs now doing JUST THAT. Again, he stopped. (good!)

His advice to me? "You have many children it is better if you can get your husband to divorce you....you will be assured of money for support of all.....you need to see a lawyer, perhaps he can deal on your behalf?....you are totally entitled to request a divorce from your husband, there is no sin on you for asking for it, demanding it. The baby's BC should be able to be fixed by the lawyer as well. Let Khula be a last resort."

Okay...good. Was I expecting different? No, I wasn't. But I wanted the power of a sheikh to say it....a Sheikh Al Azhar. It sounds powerful and it means business. I mean business.

After it was all over, I sent a text message to a friend....I wrote:

"Finished at Azhar. Didn't cry. Sh gave me ideas. Also said no sin on me to ask talaq. Khula last resort. I feel like I am doing something, however small. Even if only rebelling, Allah is still pleased with me."

She wrote back:

"Alhumdulillah u feel some relief. Allah doesn't wish 4 oppression. U can feel the justice within reach."

These words of support carried me along the rest of the day.

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I drove with my 12 yr old to Roxy Square. We went shopping for clothes. She had fun trying LOTS of stuff on. It was fun and silly. In the end, we only bought her one tunic and one pair of pants. LOL! We went to Mc Donalds..... or rather what seemed like Lovers Lane. What was with all the couples? On one side of us was this young couple who kept holding hands across the table for short periods of time. Occasionally the girl would caress his carefully placed hand.... HAHA! You go boy! It made me laugh to see them so in love and yet so oblivious to my stares. HELLO?? YOU WHO? FIRE? FLOOD?? EARTH TO LOVERS? HELLO? Naaah..... they were GONE! It made me realize how powerful that feeling is.

And then on the other side was this old man and woman. Having a quiet, lazy lunch together. Every so often interrupted by calls on his cell which he proceeded to yell into.... HAHA! I told my 12 yr old daughter..... it's interesting that he's wearing a yellow shirt and his socks are yellow to match. You just KNOW that his wife did that. We laughed and ate our lunch. At one point, even my 12 yr old says to me... WOW! Is everyone in love here? I laughed and asked her if she was embarassed to be eating McDonalds with her mother? And she said, "Oh no, I'm not embarassed. I just feel so old fashioned." HAHA!! Love was the new style.

There was a little fight..... daughter tried on this tunic that was too tight. She liked it. It made her look thinner. ( I thought it made her look like she was going to pop the buttons!!) I was FIRM. You are not buying it. And when we got in the car to go home. She was upset. She talked strongly but would not look me in the eye.

-you don't understand style

-it looked good on me

-you are forcing my clothing decisions

-I am young, I should wear what want

It went on and on. A few tears on her side. I was strong and probably mean as well. But I said very clearly and LOOKED right at her.

"As long as you are in MY house, you will wear clothes that are acceptable to me. You know the rules. You have your freedom to choose whatever you want, but they have to at least cover your bottom and not be super tight. Why do you wear hijab? As long as they follow the two rules, go WILD!"

She became quiet. And I became desperate to salvage the night. I didn't want to go home with a sulky 12 yr old. So I took a detour and took her to yet ANOTHER mall. When she realized, she was pleased, but also asked me to just go home. She felt a little guilty as well. I insisted that we go. We walked around for an hour, looked at things, enquired about the price of belly dancing costumes...($350 in case you wanted to know...egyptian!!)

And then went on our way.

Home sweet home. I basically fell down when I got here. I was sooooo tired. Exhausted. You name it. I took Precious Baby and laid him down beside me. Ahhhhhhhhh. What is it that Dorothy said?

.....There's no place like home.