I've learned to be as alone as together means.

I've been working from home for the past two days now. My son has a high fever and it has been two days now and still it won't go down. I feel helpless whenever my son gets ill. I wish I could take the pain away. Seeing him sitting there, just starting on the phone or TV and I know that he can barely lift his head breaks my heart. 

One of my best friends lost his dad earlier this week. I was attending the funeral and while there, I saw a couple of my friends holding the hand of another friend, who I last saw more than a decade ago. He had one of them from each side holding his hand and helping him walk, taking a step by step forward, the same way you would help an old person with bad knees or someone who had just gotten out of operation - I know this well because I was in that situation a lot. I went up to him and hugged him because it's been ages, and then I asked him what was wrong and he told me that he suffers from MS (multiple sclerosis) in his legs. I was shocked. I didn't know what to say. He told me he's been living with it for seven years and I kept apologising that I didn't know. Literally, NO ONE told me. Is it because I am off the grid on social media and was living in another country? I kept thinking if someone had texted me about it years back but my memory failed to remember. I don't know if anyone told me and I forgot - but how can you forget something like this. Ammar, which is his family name, and the way we always called him, has always been friends with some of my best friends. Like he was in my extended group of friends. We have each other's numbers, but we never called one another; we always met when others were around. But still, he is someone I would call a friend and not an acquaintance. He seemed content and happy, he is living with his condition and accepting it, going on with life. After the funeral, we were helping him to go to his car with his wife, and I could only imagine how their lives changed, both of them and his kids after he got diagnosed. His wife, despite not knowing her or meeting her before that day, is my hero. I could tell she is a great woman who is taking care of her husband and not one who could have easily walked away. 

After he left, my mind kept playing memories of him sitting with us in the old days, driving his car - I remember he had a cool Kia Sephia, or maybe he didn't? 

We worry about fickle things in our life. I get agitated if I am late for my F45 class, or if I skip a day of working out. We don't know the blessings we have, and we should thank God every day that we are healthy, alive, and happy. 

Remember to be kind, always. Speak soon!