Woke up this morning from a vivid dream about the Ramadan moon sighting. I dreamt that I saw the crescent moon–huge, clear, and lit on the left side–on the same night that this dream occurred in. In the dream I realized that “we” (my family and I) were wrong this whole time, and that Ramadan began on Saturday all along. I took a closer look with some telescopic binoculars and the crescent just turned into bubbles and glitter and then disappeared. I wonder how much of the dream was truth and how much of was based on my own internal conflict about the different starting days that started yesterday.
I woke up wishing it was about the Eid moon.
I woke up wanting to keep a fast—it was pinching at my heart–even though it only counts in Ramadan when you make the intention the night before, and even though I was exempt.
I was exempt! How lucky, I thought. I get to start with my family, and, if Eid ends up being celebrated on a unified day, I can make up the correct number of fasts without having hurt anybody’s feelings. I was fasting with my family after all, and my family was following the local masjid in the area, which follows whatever Saudi says.
This is the first year my heart really hurt this much over the conflict. This feeling was compounded by the fact that the sound system at my masjid kept shutting off in the first rakah of every taraweeh prayer on this first night. I couldn’t help but think that maybe this was a sign from Allah telling us that we had started on the wrong day… I’m definitely over thinking it!
Despite all this internal conflict, nothing compared to the feeling of bliss that descended after Maghrib when I realized it was finally Ramadan for us. A sigh of relief. Alhumdulillah times a million–I felt like I was saved. This was the first year that, during the days before Ramadan, I felt as though the possibility of me dying minutes or seconds before reaching Ramadan was very high.
But Alhumdulillah I was saved.