The Grieving Prophet: How This Muslim Mother Finds Comfort In The Messenger’s Sorrow

He buried his own six children. Three of them died in infancy and three others in young adulthood. His only surviving child – daughter Fatima – died six months after him. Prophet Muhammad was no stranger to death. His father died before he was born. His mother died when he was six years old, leaving him as an orphan. His beloved grandfather Abdulmuttalib died shortly while he was in his care. His beloved wife Khadija and his uncle Abu Talib – who was his sole protector against Meccan persecution – both died in the same year. Scholars speculate that Khadija died early probably due to malnourishment from the three-year boycott that left the early Muslim community to starvation. This time of anguish and sadness has been known in Islamic history as the “Year of Sorrow.” The Prophet’s dear uncle Hamza was not only killed during war but his body was also shamefully mutilated. Many of his friends and companions were tortured in front of his eyes. A grieving Prophet already, the Prophet Muhammad had to also witness the abhorrent pre-Islamic practice of female infanticide which the Qur’an ultimately prohibited. Mortality rates were high in the pre-modern harsh desert environment of the 7th century. 

Death was all too common to our Prophet Muhammad . Grief was a constant in his life. As an adult man, he often returned to his mother’s grave to honor and remember her. His Companions saw him weeping and were moved to tears. For Muslims then and now, Prophet Muhammad continues to be a source of light, guidance, and comfort in the midst of their own sadness and grief. 

My son died in infancy. My three-year-old daughter Meryem was tragically killed by a truck. I will never get over it, but I am slowly learning to integrate this tragedy into my life. As a grieving Muslim mother, I look up to Prophet Muhammad in my constant sorrow and heartache. I turn to narrations describing his anguish. One particular account of the impending death of his two-year-old son Ibrahim as relayed in Muhammad Husayn Haykal’s The Life of Muhammad, moved me to tears:

The Prophet was so shocked at the news that he felt his knees could no longer carry him, and asked Abd al Rahman ibn Awf to give him his hand to lean upon. He proceeded immediately to the orchard and arrived in time to bid farewell to the infant dying in his mother’s lap. Prophet Muhammad took the child and laid him in his own lap while shaking his hand. His heart was torn apart by the new tragedy, and his face mirrored his inner pain. Choking with sorrow, he said to his son, “O Ibrahim, against the judgment of God, we cannot avail you a thing,” and then fell silent. Tears flowed from his eyes. The child lapsed gradually, and his mother and aunt watched and cried incessantly, and the Prophet never ordered them to stop. As Ibrahim surrendered to death, Prophet Muhammad’s hope which had consoled him for a brief while completely crumbled. With tears in his eyes he talked once more to the dead child: “O Ibrahim, were the truth not certain that the last of us will join the first, we would have mourned you even more than we do now.” A moment later he said: “The eyes are shedding tears and the heart is saddened, but we do not say anything except that which pleases our Lord. Indeed, O Ibrahim, we are saddened by your departure from us.” 

Reading these and many more eyewitness accounts from the Prophet’s life, comforted me as a mother in so many ways. These were public documents accessible to all at all times. They demonstrated that grief was a public affair. It was a human and universal feeling. Grief was not a medical condition to be treated or singled out. As a human being, as a man, as a parent, as a person of utmost love and conviction to God – Prophet Muhammad gave himself permission to feel his sadness, shed tears in public, and express his sorrow. On one occasion, one of his Companions was puzzled when seeing the Prophet of God cry, to which he responded that shedding tears is an expression of God’s Mercy. A tender and soft heart is a blessing from God. His understanding of sacred manhood and strong masculinity includes the courage to be vulnerable. Real men can cry. People of strong faith can shed tears.

Prophetic teachings continue to sustain bereaved Muslim parents [PC: unsplash]

The Prophet Muhammad allowed himself to be fully human and whole by holding space for all emotions. There is no anger, no wailing, no doubt, no questioning. I see in him ultimate surrender, trust, acceptance, contentment, and peace with God’s Decree. These are attitudes Muslims strive for – to be at peace with oneself and life’s circumstances that are beyond human control. Despite the agony of witnessing his six children die, his integrity and certainty in the afterlife remained unshaken.

Muslims affirm that the Prophet witnessed the heavenly realm during the holy Night Journey (mi’raj). He saw Prophet Abraham surrounded by deceased young children playing in the gardens of Paradise. He came back to deliver the good news of hope and a future yet to come. Our children are alive. They are safe. They are rejoicing over their return to their celestial home. We will join and reunite with them. 

Death is a transition – not the end. In the words of Muslim theologian Bediüzzaman Said Nursi: 

Death is not destruction, or nothingness, or annihilation; it is not cessation or extinction; it is not eternal separation, or non-existence, or a chance event; it is not authorless obliteration. Rather, it is to be discharged by the Author who is All-Wise and All-Compassionate; it is a change of abode. It is to be despatched to eternal bliss, to your true home. 

These are the Prophetic teachings that continue to sustain bereaved Muslim parents like me in their agony. They are the reason why Muslim grandfather, Khaled Nabhan, whose grandchildren were murdered in Gaza can still find joy and be a beacon of light for others. Similarly, Muslim father, Dr. Abdul Munim Jitmoud, drew on Prophetic inspiration in being able to not only forgive, but also embrace his son’s killer. It is through Muslims like these from whom we receive a glimpse of the beauty and spiritual impact of Prophetic character and wisdom. 

By worldly standards, Prophet Muhammad lived the most miserable life. He was poor, orphaned, and faced ridicule and persecution by his own people. He endured starvation, exile, conflict, and experienced death. Yet, he is known to Muslims as the Most Beloved of God (habibullah). His moral and spiritual legacy endures. Prophet Muhammad’s example is a meaning-making map to navigate life and death. In the words of the late Imam and Muslim chaplain Sohaib Sultan, the Prophet not only showed his followers the art of living, but also the art of dying with grace and dignity. 

[This article was first published here, and has been reposted with the author’s permission]

Related:

– My Dearest Fetus: Enduring Unimaginable Loss

– When Children Die: On Tragedy, and What is Reported about the Death of Believing Children