As I walked into my nephew's house, I wondered when the tears would appear. While helping set up for the engagement party and smiling thinking about my own engagement party and how I wore heels that made me taller than Aamir, I thought about my exit strategy for when I became too overwhelmed. I actually surprised myself with how well I did, most likely because I was put in charge of taking photographs and had to ensure every component of ALL families were included...a reminder to me that South Asian families often run deep. Then it hit, while my nephew was leading Maghrib prayer, I wondered if I could use my hijab as a tissue to wipe away the tears. Realizing I will not be able to hear Hadi's beautiful recitation or ruffle his hair and straighten up his engagement outfit (in this life) was tough. Us bereaved mothers (is that what we are called), we get through these events and smile: the birthdays, the graduations, the engagements, the weddings, the sports events, the school musicals, the vacations...but there is a consistent hole that we accept as our reality and ya know what, it sucks. That being said, overhearing Zakaria talk about his brother and then fully explain aplastic anemia as well as the NIH to some of his new friends was pretty incredible. He let them know that a cure had not been found...yet.