Every year as Ramadan approaches, I prepare myself for the familiar rhythms of the holy month — the pre-dawn meals, the deliberate pace of daylight hours without food or water, the communal iftars, the extended night prayers. I anticipate that distinctive spiritual atmosphere that settles over these 30 days, where time itself seems to operate by different rules.
This year, however, Ramadan arrived with an unexpected companion. Just one week before the crescent moon appeared, my husband was diagnosed with acute leukemia. In an instant, our carefully planned spiritual journey was completely rewritten.
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