And every time February 14th approaches, I think of Imam Khomeini ……
Imam’s wife would say, "I was never woken up by Imam praying Salatul Layl because he would never switch on the room light. When he would go to do wudhoo, he would place a sponge in the sink under the tap so that the sound of the falling water would not wake me."
Agha always offered me the better place in the room. He would not start
eating until I came to the dinner table. He would also tell the children:
‘Wait until Maa comes.’
He was not even willing that I should work in the house. He would always
tell me: ‘Don’t sweep.’ If I wanted to wash the children’s clothes at the
pond, he would come and say: “Get up, you shouldn’t be washing.”
On the whole, I have to say that Imam did not consider sweeping, washing
dishes and even washing my children’s clothes as part of my responsibilities. If out of necessity I sometimes did these, he would get
upset considering them as a type of unjust dealing towards me. Even when I entered the room, he would never say: ‘Close the door behind
you,’ but waited till I sat down and then would himself get up and shut the door.
His daughter Siddika says: My father had an extraordinary respect for my
mother. In the period of 60 years of living together, he did not even reach
for food (on the dinner table) before his wife, nor did he have even the
smallest expectation from her. I can even say that in the period of 60
years of living together, at no time did he even ask for a glass of water,
but would always get it himself.
He behaved this way not only with his wife but also with all of us who were
his daughters. If he ever wanted water we would all enthusiastically run to
get it, but he never wanted us to bring and give him a glass of water in his hand.
During the difficult last days of his life, each time he would open his
eyes, if he was capable of speaking, he would ask: ‘How is Khanom?’ We
would reply: ‘She is good. Shall we tell her to come to you?’ He would
answer: ‘No, her back is hurting. Let her rest.’
Here is one of the letters he wrote to her:
To my beloved wife,
I really miss you her in Beirut. You can find a lot of beautiful places to visit in the city and at the sea. What a pity that my dearest is not with me……
This has been a good journey so far trip but you are really and truly missed. I miss our son, Seyyed Mustafa. I pray that God will protect you both.
I love you so much.
Duas & Salaams