There once lived in Basrah a prolific and profoundly spiritual worshipper whose fear of the Hereafter caused him to become physically weak, and whose constant crying made him skinny and sick. When he was on his deathbed, his family gathered around him, and they all began to cry.
“Help me sit up.” He said. He addressed his father first: “O my father, what is making you cry?”
“My son,” began his father, “I remembered that I will lose you, and that I will be alone after you die.”
The worshipper then turned his gaze towards his mother and said, “O my Mother, what is making you cry?”