And there are years, I’ve learned, that one simply cannot skip when reflecting on memories of a long marriage together. For me, 1997 is one of those years. I know there will be those who judge me for what I did that year, and for what I did not do. And those who think me a fool. Some because of my willingness to throw away a marriage of twenty-six years, others because I welcomed a new one into my own. But I didn’t leave or stay for Ismael, as some may think. And I did not welcome Alika for him. I did it for me. For my soul. If that makes me a fool, I accept that, and submit. As long as when my soul is taken, it is taken with ease. And that the One above the heavens has forgiven me the foolishness that I lived in truth. My Lord has graced me with tremendous blessings in my life, and I fear ungratefulness more than I fear foolishness in the eyes of men. For I am pleased with Allah as my Lord. Islam as my religion. And Muhammad as my prophet. Yet, I know that my life is not the only way to live out that pleasure. But my life is the only life I know, and as such, I turn my focus within. My prayer is that others will do the same. Let my life be a lesson to you, even if my footprints are not where you choose to rest your soles. Let my pain be a reminder, even if it is a pain you will never feel. And let my choices in enduring both be a sign to you. For you tread the earth as I do, and, surely, one day you will be gone. And your footsteps will be the only ones that do not leave after you are lowered beneath the ground.