Regret
Regret is an intelligent and emotional dislike for personal past acts and behaviors. Regret is often felt when someone feels sadness, shame, embarrassment, depression or even guilt after committing an action or actions that later wished that he or she hadn’t done (wikipedia)
A few days ago I went to my sister’s house attending a wedding proposal to a nephew. I went there with my wife and the two sons, as you all know it’s post Eid Al-Fitr so our two maids went home and promised to return on October 1st 2009. As soon as we got there, it’s crowded already, lots and lots people came around from both sides. What’s more terrifying was the two boys didn’t seem to enjoy the crowd too much, the full house seemed to worsen the hot day so I took them in my sister’s bedroom, a cozy and cool place to dwell temporarily.
For a moment I was busy taking pictures for the occasion, my sister wanted me to help with additional camera so that I brought one that day. The photo session had to stop since Baraka, our second son, had enough with the bedroom and all the crowd. He begged me to take him and so I did. He enjoyed my company, he was busy exploring the neighborhood, running here and there touching things and moving back and forth the neighbors’ houses. The hot sun didn’t seem to bother him at all despite his heavy sweating.
Ariq and Baraka
Baraka started walking about two months ago when he was 1,3 years that’s why babysitting him has been quite exhausting since he tends to be so active exploring everywhere. The same thing happened that day, he seemed to enjoy his new neighborhood. He started running (not walking) everywhere, every second, every place. I was heavily sweating trying to keep up with him. Actually taking pictures of him was more exhausting that his being active (LOL), I had to run after him, taking my camera, trying to capture his acts.
Baraka Badr Al-Din
When he was running towards the house, there was a boy, aged around seven, who suddenly put his arm on Baraka’s shoulder then pushed him away causing him to fall down instantly. He was crying loudly, shocked. I was startled since it happened so fast. Next, I remembered yanking the boy’s arm, furious, trying to dig why he pushed my son. I yelled at him, asking “Why did you push him?” I also yelled at him “Do you want me to push you as well?” . The boy just stood there staring at me, uttering unclear Afterwards, the sight of his father standing nearby had worsened my anger. I looked at him disgustedly, saying “Don’t you teach your children some manner?” I told him how his son pushed mine until he fell down.
However, his apologies really calmed me down, soon enough I had even forgotten what happened at least until he approached me to say that he was sorry while explaining that his son suffers from autism. This last statement was like a huge blow and soon I was overwhelmed with guilt and regret. Next, I was questioning myself “Why didn’t I think something was wrong?”. I should have come to an easy conclusion or even assumption that something must have been wrong. The boy didn’t even wink or even say he was sorry when confronted for his devilish acts. I said to him that I was sorry, the thought of raising a child with special needs can indeed be frustrating sometimes. I explained that my son suffers from cerebral palsy, a condition somewhat similar to his son and that I understood taking care such a condition is not easy.
Suddenly God revealed the most painful truth, the sight of the autistic boy running here and there screaming meaninglessly, uttering the most bizarre sentences ever. I regret myself for not seeing this earlier, I was too blind to see because of my anger. I didn’t have the guts to see his father anymore. Everything seemed so wrong and next I condemned my stupid anger over and over again. I remember my wife advised me to be more patient and calm. She said that I should have been wiser in dealing with such a situation even though my reaction as father is understandable, yet I should be more and more cautious next time.
Every now and then, I cannot stop regretting that moment. I cannot seem to forget the boy’s static look, his ashamed father, my anger and everything that contributes to this guilt. The voice of his father explaining that his son suffers from autism still echoes inside my head. She’s right, older should have come with wiser. To the boy and his father, wherever you are, forgive me for yelling at you, forgive me for yanking you in anger, I am so sorry. I didn’t mean to disrespect and God knows how I feel for you.
Written in guilt, September 2009
Images: flickr
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