Daddy's Home...Run!
I've
come back into the world to a Muslim father's worst nightmare. When I left my
kid, she was all of 15. Now, she's 19 - and to my
chagrin of chagrins, she has a boyfriend.
He
aint Muslim.
Yeah, I'm a bit perturbed.
Okay, I'm pissed.
I
would like to have imagined that nothing like this could have happened in any
type of reality. My religion is my life and so I have had every intent in
making it as important to my child. After all, she is my flesh and blood and
the only other person carrying my name (legitimately) – and because I am a
first generation Muslim convert, it’s her I am relying on to carry on the
family religious legacy.
That
legacy is in trouble. Worse, it means I am too. I firmly believe in the idea
that I am charged by God to raise my kid as a Muslim and that as a parent I
will be held responsible for my effort and its result. It is bad enough that I was away from
her for 3 years, but I trusted that as her mother, a Muslim herself, would
raise and care for her, she would be in good hands.
But
her Mama had her own struggles, including with faith. The result is my kid has
had to struggle mightily, living a nomadic life, struggling financially,
scholastically, and spiritually. Of course, this is not a singular struggle –
we all go through it. What has been most disconcerting is that my kid has had
to struggle alone. For the most part, it has been a beautiful struggle – my kid
is scrambling to graduate after falling behind and is a straight-A student in
the process. And of all the absurd and troubling behaviors that she called fall
into, she has avoided the pitfalls.
But
this boyfriend thing – it’s a hard one to swallow. First, Islam – Allah and His
Prophet make clear that a Muslimah cannot be with a non-Muslim. Sure we live in
a society where one’s personal whims outweigh everything but I have learned to
appreciate my faith for the most part, especially in that I/we must observe
that there are lines that God draws, and draws simply to underscore who is in
charge and who must follow.
Surprisingly to some, I have a reputation as being a bit of a hard-nose – often to a fault. When I found out that my kid had a non-Muslim boyfriend, I first cast the shadow of blame on her Mom, especially for not informing of this tidbit. That in itself made me wonder if she or our kid didn’t think I would hit the roof once I found out – since, I have been a stickler on this issue since the moment my child came into this world, not to mention having raised 2 other girls to adulthood under this same paradigm.
Well, it really isn't - but, I almost feel sorry for this kid, whatever his name is, because someone certainly should have warned him that he is Tokyo to my Godzilla on this issue. But fortunately for him, there’s something bit less impulsive at work in this head and heart of mine (this time). No, I will not compromise on the principle, but I am also going to resist running up on him with a "strong suggestion" he get amnesia suddenly regarding my kid.
For now.
Love and all that mushy junk aside, I find the relationship rule cut and dry and I think I actually understand it even against the backdrop of hearts wanting what hearts want. What is igging me in the back of my brain is my newfound inclination to give people room for the ignorance and insolence that is part of the fabric of human behavior. I have learned that while Islam is cut and dry in so many aspects – it’s application is a whole other issue.
Kind
of like how democracy sounds so swell as an idea – but in practice, it first
occurs in varying forms and collectively they hardly live up to the theoretical
ideal. Islam is not unlike this. It is not the monolithic faith many think
(including many Muslims) yet Muslims are unified in the idea that we all are
tasked with struggling to live what we read and learn. And so, being human,
this entails struggling with a lot of inherent flaws.
I
have to allow that my Baby Mama dropped the ball on my daughter. As much as
this frustrates and angers me, I can't change anything with blame – and the BM is self-aware
enough to hardly let me indict her without pointing fingers back at me – after
all, this happened while my watch was abandoned. I have to allow that my
studious daughter is not ever going to be perfect – and since she is a lot like
me anyway, it’s a miracle that she is as awesome as she is.
So,
as I write this, she and I have an impending date. I will allow her to eject
and spew whatever resentment, questions, etc., she harbors – she deserves and
needs that much.
And I
will breathe deep and slow. And I will put my foot down – and encourage her to
hold on to her faith – our faith. Maybe even consider inviting this dude,
whatever his name is, to our faith. But I will draw a line and try my damndest
to not draw it like a fire through a dry forest.
Now,
if and when I end up having to chat with dude, whatever his name is…well, I can’t
make any promises. Even if Godzilla wants to stroll down a Tokyo street, he’s going
to knock over a build or two.
Wish me luck.
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