My uncle’s death came as a shock and taught me an important lesson: Be charitable, so that you will never have any regrets. We had just been talking about him: My father had mentioned that his brother had just been discharged from the hospital and was feeling better. My uncle had been in and out of the hospital in the past, so I thought little of it. He always bounced back, and I took it for granted that I would see him again. After all, he was only 60.

Then the phone call came. I was pulling into the hospital parking lot, about to begin another jam-packed work week, when my mother called me. “I’m calling to let you know,” she said, “that your uncle has passed away. The ultimate destiny is to God.”

“What? He died?” I asked incredulously. “Yes. We are having a memorial service on Saturday,” she replied. I could not believe my ears. Just like that, my uncle was gone forever. I still cannot believe he is gone. My uncle was such a kind-hearted, loving man. I don’t think he ever harboured any ill will towards anyone or anything. The father of one of my uncle’s dearest friends once said, “You will never find a better friend than Mohammed Hassaballa.”

My uncle was like a father to me, and I loved to see him. My daughters adored him. After first meeting him they told me, “Baba, we like this new ‘Giddo’ (Grandpa).” Coming to terms with his death was difficult enough — breaking the news to my innocent daughters elevated the pain to a whole new level. — Beliefnet.com