Saman tossed and turned in the darkness of the night.
The sound of rain tapping against the window became the backdrop to the stillness of their home.
He closed his eyes, but his mind would not quiet down; memories of his mother — her smiling face, her words that would never be spoken again — flowed like a soft shadow through the heart of the night.
Suddenly, he slipped into a light sleep.
He found himself standing in the courtyard of their home, the very same courtyard that had gleamed under last night’s rain.
Saman looked around. Suddenly, he saw his mother standing by one of the trees; she wore simple clothing, and her face, as always, was calm and soothing.
With a gaze full of tenderness, his mother looked at him, a gentle smile on her lips, yet she said nothing.
It was only that warm gaze that carried all the unspoken words into Saman’s heart:
“Be at peace… Something of me still lives within you.”
Saman wanted to say something, wanted to step forward and hold her hands, but the words were caught in his throat.
He could only stand there, looking at her — a moment brief yet profound.
Then a breeze blew, a faint light enveloped everything, and his mother’s face faded into the glow.
With a steady heartbeat, Saman woke up.
The darkness still cloaked the house, but something within him had shifted.
He stared at the ceiling and took a deep breath.
He felt that his mother, despite her absence, was still alive within him.
Not merely in distant memories, but woven into the fabric of his being:
In the smiles that would sometimes creep onto his lips without him realizing,
In the patience that came to him during the hardest moments,
In the hope that, though faint, had never been extinguished.
Saman gently closed his eyes again.
For the first time in a long while, he did not want to chase after answers.
He only wanted to hold onto this feeling of presence, this sudden, delicate warmth in his heart.
The rain continued to fall softly.
And in the depth of the night, Saman breathed a little lighter
