I break down through the namaazes. I hear her voice teaching me the aayaat. I remember her running around the house, finding all rozaa daars at Iftaar time and handing over the Khajoor (date) to break our fast. I can't think of anything else at Iftaar or through namaaz than her maghfirat, forget every duaa except that. Reading the Quran my eyes well up after every three words, the fights over hijjay (spelling) and aamokhtaa (revision) were endless.
This one time I was crying through my Quran lesson (VERY common sight) and tried to weasel out of her snare by saying, "I need to change my dupatta, it's drenched in tears and snot. I can't be reading the Quran like this". "Khabardaar jo yahaan se hiliin. Naak paak hoti hai" she exclaimed. (Don't you dare move from here. Snot is paak/ clean)
Her situation specific Fatvaas rocked.
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