When someone you love becomes a memory, the memory becomes a treasure.
In reality, losing a loved one is one of the hardest things to deal with in life. You will experience waves of intense and very difficult emotions, ranging from profound sadness, emptiness, and despair.
However, death is inevitable for all human beings.
The concept of equality among human beings is great. At least in being human, they are equal. But in actual life, extreme differences are seen between people. It starts with physical appearance. Not a single person, living or dead, is like any other human being ever born on this earth. The differences extend to living patterns, standards, attitudes, or dispositions. Yet the beginning and end of life are absolutely identical for all men and women, irrespective of their caste, religion, race, language, or place of birth.
At birth, a human is a helpless creature entirely dependent on the mother. Death is also a similar event where a person’s helplessness is totally unredeemed. Whatever we have gathered in our lives comes to nothing. It is a time when everything in this world is of no use.
The richest and the poorest are equal at the final event of life. Hence, as the proverb says, death is indeed a great leveler.
Looking into my father’s life, I keep coming back to one thought: Never will you meet a man who lived his values more faithfully than my father.
My father was a teacher of all things. His method was simple: he taught by example. At any time, when faced with an ethical dilemma and after reflection, study, or even rationalization, I find myself coming back to one simple question: What would Dad do? His character is the foundation of my conscience.
My father was strong in body, spirit, and commitment. My father never let another person down. He fulfilled every obligation he ever undertook. His word was his bond, and everyone knew it. I never heard him utter a lie or intentionally deceive others.
Though he was from one of the richest and most respected families in Ibadan, the Adebisi Family of Idikan, my father was self-made and self-reliant. From his education to his career as a renowned pharmacist, he never relied on anyone.
My father was an avid reader and a man who knew a little about everything because of his love for reading. As a matter of fact, he was a teacher. He ensured that he passed his knowledge on to all of his children.
My father never made an enemy. Not one. While he most surely came across a few people he couldn’t countenance, he solved the problem by simply avoiding them. He always insisted that violence never solved any problem. He never once hit another person in anger.
My father was loyal. His faithfulness to the important people in his life could be seen in the way he steadfastly maintained ties with his childhood friends. He assisted family and friends and was never stingy.
Though he was a Muslim, he never discriminated against other religions.
My father even provided a home for his widowed mother and allowed her to build a second life filled with the joy of her grandchildren. While Mom carried the burden of sharing a roof with her mother-in-law, Dad did his best to foster domestic tranquility.
Throughout my childhood and growing up, I never saw him sick because he took matters concerning his health very seriously. And when, on February 27, 2016, I got a call from my younger brother that Father had taken ill and wanted all his children who were in Ibadan at the time to come and see him, I was so afraid. And when I arrived at our Molete residence, I met my dad in the company of my other siblings in the living room, discussing. I greeted him, and he answered smiling. He engaged us all in his usual intellectual discussion and told us all to wait and eat, saying he was okay.
And in the evening, when we all left my father’s house, he saw us all out to the gate, not knowing it would be the last time. We never knew that was Dad’s last parting gift.
At precisely 12 AM on February 28, 2016, I received another call that my Dad had passed on.
I couldn’t hold back tears. I kept wondering why such a wonderful father could die at a time like that. My father may have been dead in the flesh, but I know his legacies will forever be fresh in the minds of his children and those who had the rare opportunity of getting to know him when he was alive.
As Muslims, we take solace from the verse of the Holy Quran: “Inna lillahi wa inna ilayhi raji’un,” meaning “We surely belong to Allah and to Him we shall return.”
As we all remember you today, we pray to Almighty Allah to grant you Aljanah Firdaus.