New Year

A new year is around the corner. Within a few hours 2015 will be upon us. We have survived another year without our beloved Shahdi. How is that possible?! How many more new years are left in my life? How many more new years reminding me of my painful loss?  How many more new years without my beautiful daughter to make them special? 

All my hopes, dreams, and new year resolutions​ were buried in the white box with Shahdi. Of course I wish for Arman's health and happiness every day. Those hopes are a constant, but the loss of Shahdi has wiped out any hopes and dreams that I had for me, for her, and for the four of us as a family. Without her, our family unit feels incomplete. 

Yesterday I heard about a complete family who perished in the AirAsia flight earlier this week - the parents along with their three children. I was very saddened to hear about the loss of all the passengers and crew aboard that flight, but when I heard about this family, my first thought was that at least they were together till the very end. Hopefully, if there is an afterlife, they will be together. Then, I watched an interview with an elderly Indonesian couple who had lost their daughter, her husband and their two grandchildren. Even though only a day had passed since the accident, the grandmother was able to stay composed. She didn't shed a single tear on camera and spoke of her belief in the afterlife. While watching her, I wondered how she could remain so in control of her emotions. After all, she had not only lost her daughter but three more members of her family as well. Then, I realized that I was envious of her faith. I envied her for her ability to accept this catastrophe as an act of God and believe that her departed loved ones were in a different place, but not finished. I don't share her faith and never will, but I could see how such beliefs were able to alleviate the pain of such enormous loss for this old couple. 

I have a very simple wish for this new year. I hope I don't hear any bad news and all my family and friends have a healthy and happy year. Since 2007, every single year we had to deal with a tragedy and loss in our lives, the most painful one being Shahdi's passing. I hope with all my heart and soul that we are spared this year from all tragedies and heartaches. 

May all my loved ones be merry and in good health this year.

The Special Blanket

There has always been a sofa in our family-room. Shahdi spent countless hours on the sofas during her lifetime, reading, sleeping, watching TV, or doing homework. The other night, I was sitting on the sofa reading a book until my eyes started feeling tired. I looked up at the clock and it was a few minutes past midnight. All of a sudden I felt the urgent need to feel closer to Shahdi. Thus, I got up and found the double-layer black and white fleece blanket which Shahdi had made me for my birthday a few years ago, turned off the lights, and positioned my head on the sofa’s armrest, in Shahdi's favorite spot. As I pulled the blanket up to my chin, I tried to envision my beautiful Shahdi when she was making this blanket for me. I then wrapped the blanket tighter around my body, pretending I was enveloped in Shahdi's love and warmth.

La vida no es justa.

Si no estás aquí Shahdi, la vida no vale la pena mi amor.

21st Birthday

My darling Shahdi, my beautiful child, my one-of-a-kind daughter,

       Happy 21^st Birthday!

What a pity that you are not able to celebrate your twenty first birthday with your family and friends. Today’s gloomy and rainy weather matches the sentiments of my heart and soul on this special day, which could have instilled warm and happy feelings in all who love you, instead of sad and nostalgic ones. I wonder how you would have celebrated your 21^st birthday. Most likely you would have gone through the birthday rituals with your family as quickly as you could, so that you could join your friends for having lots of fun well into the night. I so wish you could have done what your heart desired on this special day.

What I have learned in the past year - Part 2

Death - the Liberator

Instead of fearing death, I now understand it. I accept it. Really. I am now aware of its presence all the time. I know he can barge in at any time again, as an uninvited and detested guest who can easily pass through closed, locked, and shielded doors. There is no fighting him. He always wins the battle at the end. So, why fight it?  Just be aware of its real presence but try your best to live a full life, despite the ending.  Why? Because life is an experience with unlimited possibilities and scenarios. 

Bittersweet Birthdays

Today has been a bittersweet day for me. The sweetness is the result of the outpouring of birthday wishes received from family and friends from around the globe through their Facebook posts, phone calls, text messages and emails. Thank you for the warmth which your loving attention has instilled in my soul. I also owe the glow of my heart today to you.

¿Dónde estás?

Mi Querida Hija,

Hace milagro....y vuelve a tu casa! Por favor...

¿Dónde estás hermosa hija? ¿Por qué te fuiste?  ¿Por qué  mi amor?
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Time - Overrated Healer

Time is not the ultimate healer as claimed and its abilities are overrated. Even the passage of time cannot heal the broken heart of a bereaved parent. 

Hell

There is a Persian proverb which states that once the head is underwater, it doesn't matter how far down it is. Thus, if one is already in hell, can something worse happen?  I don’t think so. On the bright side, I am now confident that I can survive any other disaster or hardship that life has in store for me even though it has not been easy to live in this hell of despair and longing while trying to act as normally as possible every single day. 

What I have learned in the past year - Part 1.

 Parenting is certainly the toughest job on the planet.  When I became a parent, I never thought I would be faced with the tragedy of losing my child to suicide.  I had expected parenting to be a lot easier than what it turned out to be. I had never thought of having to deal with mental illness, and was totally unprepared to deal with such challenges. All I had anticipated were the normal non-life-threatening childhood diseases or accidents.

One Year and Many Thanks

A year ago today, on a late afternoon in November, our beloved Shahdi took her last breath in solitude. The only living being present, who unwillingly witnessed this colossal tragedy was Toby, and most unfortunately, he does not speak our language and we do not understand his.  Ironically, Shahdi was Toby’s original benefactor, the one who petitioned us to adopt him as a member of our family. This year has been a tumultuous emotional journey for us, and many of you, who were close to Shahdi and loved her as we did.

52 Weeks

Sometimes, time fails to heal certain wounds. A year after Shahdi’s premature death, the wound she left behind in my heart and soul is as fresh as the day she left. How could anyone expect the passage of merely fifty two weeks make any reduction in the magnitude of such pain? I certainly did not expect it, and therefore, I am not surprised to find myself still hurting as the day I found the lifeless body of my darling daughter. It still is hard to believe that Shahdi is dead; gone; disappeared; and out of sight forever. Sometimes, it feels like it was just yesterday when I last saw her and heard her voice.

21st Birthday

In a different life, under 'normal' circumstances, we would have been celebrating Shahdi's 21st birthday next month on December 22nd. I had planned a long time ago to give her one of my favorite pieces of jewelry which was given to me by my mother. Unfortunately, this piece would remain unclaimed in my jewelry box as the one from last year, the blue sapphire ring I had exclusively ordered for her as a surprise gift for her 20th birthday.

If I could turn back time...

Once upon a time, there were two smart and pretty girls sitting in the backseat of my car, whispering and giggling. I was on the way to drop them off at Southpointe Mall, in front of Chipotle. After having dinner there, they were planning on walking across the street to the mall. It was a nice summer evening in 2007. One of the girls had to walk with crutches due to some pain in her legs, the other was adjusting her steps to her friend's pace and trying to be as helpful as she could. They both were so full of life, dreams and hopes. At thirteen, there were so many possibilities for them having a bright future. They were two active intelligent girls, both in the gifted program at school, both on the verge of leaving childhood behind, both feeling the changes in their body and mind due to puberty, both interested in makeup and shopping, both trying to enjoy the moment, both oblivious to how their lives would change irreparably in a short few months.

Neither I, nor they, knew in that pleasant summer evening that seven years later, I would be driving that very same car to work on a dark and cold November morning, glancing through the rear mirror at the empty backseat, thinking of the two angels who once sat there, but are no longer with us.

If I could turn back time...

May they be in peace, surrounded by love and happiness for eternity.

«شاهدونه»

طفلکی مامانم که «شاهدونه»اش را از دست داد.
شادی شاهدونه، یکی یکدونه....

Pity

Now that life has labelled me as a bereaved mother and cast me into the permanent depths of despair, I sometimes feel like I am viewed differently by some people who have just learned about our loss. Although I do not have any issues with people feeling pity for me - I also pity myself and all other parents sharing the same predicament – but, I have an issue with people who stare at me as if I have suddenly grown horns or become disabled! 

Quelques choses ne sont jamais pardonnées...

Un mois avant la mort de mon chère Shahdi, nous avions tous voyagé en Floride pour assister au mariage de la fille de ma belle-sœur. Shahdi y était arrivée d'Hawaï, Arman de Rhode Island et nous du Nebraska. Mais, un mois plus tard, cette même belle-sœur n'a pas accompagné mon beau-frère pour assister à l'enterrement de ma pauvre fille parce qu'elle avait invité ses amis pour une fête de Thanksgiving, qui elle ne pouvait pas annuler!

Comment bizarre en effet! Un tel manque de respect et de compassion! Une fête a été plus important que la mort d'une jeune fille, la nièce de son mari !! Je ne lui pardonnerai jamais aussi longtemps que je vivrai. Ceci est l'humanité à son plus laid.

It is not fair..

It is not fair that I now am in the autumn of my life but my beautiful intelligent daughter did not even make it to her spring. Indeed, life is neither fair nor just.

It is not fair that

Car Talk and Shahdi

 On the way to Lincoln, I heard on NPR that one of the two brothers who co-hosted CarTalk on NPR passed away today. I was very saddened because I liked Tom and Ray and loved their program. While the NPR host was continuing her coverage of Tom's death, my mind was busy uncovering some old memories from over ten years ago. Memories with strong links to my beloved Shahdi.

Some Thoughts....

1. Do not look for justice or fairness in this world.
2. Hell exists in the mortal world but luckily only few get to visit it. Does    
        paradise exist too?

Halloween

How I miss you today on Halloween Shahdi Joon! This is the first year since we moved into this house that I have absolutely no Halloween decorations anywhere on display, not even on the kitchen table. How I used to look forward to Halloween because of you and Arman! Your excitement was catchy and exhilarating. Halloween used to be my most favorite day of the year because of all the happy activities that took place before and after it: costume and candy shopping, house decorating, pumpkin carving, having friends for dinner, trick or treating, handing out candy to the adorable children in costumes, watching Arman's bat flying on the front porch and the dry ice vapors coming out of his big black cauldron by the front door, playing spooky music outside through the intercom system in order to add to the effect of the bat and the witch's cauldron, and then watching you, Arman and the other children spread your bounty on the Persian carpet in the family-room and engage in the serious business of candy-trade!! How I miss those wonderful days which are forever etched in my memory! I wish life could have stayed still then.

48 Weeks

Sometimes I wish I could pretend to be like Aunt Aghdas. Aghdas joon was my great-aunt, the younger sister of my maternal grandmother. Like many of the older ladies of my grandmother's generation, Aghdas joon was a widow, and along with my grandmother and a few other female relatives belonged to our family's unofficial 'Widows Club'. Despite their age, these ladies had created the most fun and jovial group I remember from my childhood. As an adolescent, I loved hanging out with them at every opportunity because of their sense of humor, love of life, cheerfulness and strength.  My grandmother was one of the most vivacious members of this group. Aunt Aghdas was the sentimental poet, my grandmother was the undeclared feminist, aunt Fakhri was the bold comedian (she looked and was as funny as Carol Burnett), and Ameh Jon Azize was the petite witty lady in the bunch!  One could never have a boring moment around this ensemble!

Our Very Own 'Mother Theresa'

Last night was the 11-month anniversary of our darling Shahdi's passing and we spent it in the company of a couple of her close friends. She was the main topic of conversation for the majority of the evening, and her friends helped us see a side of Shahdi which was rarely visible to us. 

Through the commentaries left by her friends on her Memorial Page and the conversations we had had with several of her friends in the last eleven months, we already had learned that Shahdi was always watching out for her friends and trying to help them in any way she could. One of her friends last night said that she always thought of Shahdi as ‘Mother Theresa’, the Catholic nun who had devoted her life to caring for others. Her friend told us about many sleepless nights Shahdi had spent by her sick bed or others', trying to nurse and take care of them. I always knew Shahdi had a heart of gold but I never knew she was such a selfless martyr. 

Unnecessary Apology

The other day, as I was talking to my cousin on the phone, he sensed my sadness when he made a reference to Shahdi, and immediately apologized for reminding me of her. However, I told him that such apologies were absolutely unnecessary.

Grandma's Necklace

With departure of Shahdi from our realm, our home, I lost interest in most things, one of which was vanity. Thinking of any type of self-beautification such as makeup and jewelry was repulsive to me.  Even brushing my hair seemed excessive in light of the fact that my beautiful daughter was dead and no longer able to brush her long hair.  Shahdi was always so interested in her vanity by taking good care of her hair, skin, teeth, nails and figure. However, she really did not need to invest much time in making herself look beautiful because she had a natural beauty which shone when it was least disturbed by cosmetics.  Thinking of my own vanity, when my daughter was decomposing in a box, felt (and still feels) like a betrayal and an insult to the memory of my beautiful Shahdi. 

A month ago, right before leaving for my trip with Arman, I decided to start wearing some jewelry to make myself look more normal to Arman and to reduce the representation of mourning in my appearance, even though my heart and soul still was (and is) in mourning. I wanted to appear as my old self while traveling with my son. I wished to look less mournful in the pictures.  At any rate, I tried hard even though I still found it difficult to think of putting ornaments on my body for vanity's sake.

European Churches

Many of Europe’s most valuable and appreciated works of art in painting, sculpture and architecture are preserved in its numerous beautiful churches. I had visited several of these churches in my previous trips to Europe, but in my most recent trip, I sought them out like never before. As many of you know, I am not a religious person but my interest in churches had shifted quite a bit in the last year since Shahdi’s passing.

Making New Memories without Your Actual Presence

My Darling Shahdi,

I might have been absent from your memorial page for over three weeks but rest assured my beautiful child that you were not absent from my heart and mind during this period. I planned a trip with the sole purpose of building new, happy memories with your brother; memories which will hopefully last a lifetime. However, I know, even if I spend the rest of my life in pursuit of happy memories, I will never be able to fill the deep well of sadness that your departure left behind in my heart and soul.  I wholeheartedly wish you were there in person with us to be a part of these wonderful new memories, like always. 

A Trip Without My Daughter

Tomorrow, I will be embarking on a multi-week voyage across the ocean, where I would meet up with one of my children. The other one will not accompany me in person but only in spirit. She would be flying next to my plane and would be with me every second of every day. I so wish I would have been able to hold the hand of each of my children on this trip as we were enjoying the activities of an average tourist on vacation. I wish I could hear the echo of Shahdi’s combat boots on the cobble-stone streets, hear the noise of her hair-dryer in the mornings, and see the admiring stares of passersby on her beautiful face while walking down the streets, as I had observed it so many times in the past.

Death in a Telenovela vs. Shahdi's

I have been watching Spanish telenovelas for years and one of the big differences between them and their US counterpart is that the cast in telenovelas seem to be experts in shedding tears! It is impossible to find an episode where somebody is not crying over something! The actors and actresses who play in these telenovelas are either very talented in acting or they have discovered a way to produce fake tears on demand! Surprisingly, they always look so convincing too.

Similar Grief

I had always considered myself very privileged for having lived this long without being directly affected by any wars. My grandparents lived through both World Wars. My parents saw the effects of WWII as children, and later endured the horrors of the Iran-Iraq war in the eighties. However, they are still lucky that none of their children ​has perished in ​any ​type of​ bloodshed.  I personally have always been against wars, physical violence and destruction and preferred to resolve problems through diplomacy and discussion rather than force.  Perhaps I feel this way because I had never had to face high levels of injustice, poverty, discrimination, violence, oppression, and bondage. 

Mexican Dress

My beloved mother-in-law, Miriam Miller Negahban, was not only a very kind and intelligent lady but also a very talented quilter, knitter, and seamstress. She passed away a year before Shahdi did, at age 81. One can find examples of her artwork in every closet in our house. Actually, I still have several of the maternity dresses she made me when I was pregnant with Arman.  I have not been able to part with them in the past twenty years because of their sentimental value to me.  For as long as these dresses are hanging in the closet and the wool sweaters she made us are safely kept in tote containers near them, Miriam Joon lives on in our home and our tangible link to her is not broken. 

The Dimming Traces

Sometimes in life we are forced into situations which we wish we could avoid, for instance, if one is an introvert by nature but has to attend many social events due to one's job or family obligations, or if one is shy and not very articulate, but is expected to deliver an important speech in front of a big crowd, etc.

Rain

Rain is generally considered a blessing by most people on this planet whether there is a water shortage or not. I am no exception. I used to love the summer rain because that meant I did not have to water my outdoor flower beds, our grass would look even greener than normal, and my car would get a free rinse. The only time I did not appreciate the rain was in the winter when there was the possibility of it turning the roads into an ice rink and causing fatal accidents. 

Nine Months

My Darling Shahdi,

It has been thirty nine long weeks since you hastily decided to leave us. It has been thirty nine weeks since I started shedding tears every single day over your unexpected and heartbreaking exit from our mortal world, and have not yet stopped. Traveling back in time to 1993, I clearly remember the thirty nine wonderful weeks you spent in my womb, being my inseparable companion, growing bigger week after week, sharing my every breath, hearing my heartbeat every second, getting used to my voice, and making me super joyful with your presence.

Our Organized Shahdi

Recently, I was in search of a new backpack for an upcoming trip and before venturing out to the stores, I looked for an abandoned one around the house. While looking, I found one of Shahdi's old backpacks in our room, and at first glance, it looked almost new and perfect for my needs. The backpack incorporated both black and sky blue in its color scheme and was a remnant from Shahdi's middle-school days. I got very excited finding it and thought it would be the closest to having Shahdi with me on this trip. Unfortunately, at closer inspection, I noticed that one of the straps had lost its buckle and was not as easily adjustable. Thus, I ended up purchasing a new black one, similar to Shahdi's last backpack; the one she had embellished with a big shiny red bow on its front pocket which had been her constant companion wherever she went in the last three years of her life. Her backpack was laid next to her feet in her coffin, containing her makeup bag, hair brush and her other small personal belongings. We did not want to separate her from her favorite companion. I wish Shahdi were alive to make me a pretty bow to put on my new backpack.

I wish I were a tree..

One beautiful spring day in May, I was sitting upstairs in my office glancing out the window at the two trees in the front yard which were covered with white blossoms. While admiring nature’s beauty, a thought crossed my mind: we humans are not as lucky as trees! We, like trees, not only are under constant threat of natural disasters such as tornadoes, floods, hurricanes, bacteria, and other diseases, but we are also under the threat of emotional distress, mental illness, depression, pain, sorrow, anxiety, etc.

We celebrated Arman's birthday over the weekend in Kansas City (KC). It was Arman's first trip there as an adult.  We had visited KC many times over the years as the kids were growing up for visiting the amusement and water parks. We also took Shahdi alone to KC a couple of times before the start of the school because she was interested in shopping for school clothes at the Plaza. I believe the last time we did that was when Shahdi was about to start 9th grade.  A few of her favorite Plaza stores were Guess, Bebe, Anthropologie, and Free People.  

Mental Illness, Misunderstood

Shahdi left us long before her time was up, but through her, we have met (and continue to meet) many wonderful people with compassionate hearts, made many new and rekindled many old friendships. Through the tragedy of losing her to suicide, we automatically gained the confidence of many people who confided in us and shared their personal stories in dealing with suicide, depression, anxiety and other types of mental disorders.  I would like to thank all those who have shared their experiences with us in order to make us feel like we were not alone. They understood our pain as we now understand theirs.  We had no idea how prevalent mental illness is in society and how misunderstood it is as well! We barely understood it ourselves. I personally have gained a clearer understanding of depression and anxiety after having spoken, in the last eight months, to those who are suffering from these disorders. I now have a much better understanding of Shahdi's state of mind shortly before her passing.  I truly appreciate all of your kind commentaries and visits since our beloved daughter's death. 

The Brave Little Girl Called, "Shahdi"..

Even as a toddler Shahdi exhibited exceptional qualities. Apart from being a bundle of joy, active, happy, full of life and energy, and fun, she was very determined and self-confident.  Before we even started potty-training her, she decided to potty-train herself. Frankly, we did not have to do much in teaching her how to do it. She was so intelligent that she had figured it out on her own that it would be more convenient for her to transition from diapers to toilets!  She had just started saying a few words when she started weaning herself off of diapers. The way she did it was really funny too. When it was time to change her diaper, she would sit on the floor and undo her dirty diaper. Then she would get a new diaper from her changing table (of course after she was wiped clean by us), open the diaper, lay it flat on the floor, sit in its center, pull the front up with her hands, lie down on her back, and fasten the  side tabs.  Voila!  The diaper was changed and all WE had to do was wiping her clean after she first took off the used diaper.  Shortly afterwards, she figured out that it would make her life a lot easier if she used the toilet instead of the diaper, and in no time, she was completely potty-trained! She didn't have to use the training pants for very long because she learned quickly how to use the bathroom properly at night as well. She was a very smart girl and had total confidence in her own abilities. When she wanted to do something, nothing could stop her from achieving her goal.

My Journey Compared to My Grandmothers'

Years ago, when John Edwards was John Kerry's vice presidential candidate, I read a story on his eldest son, Wade, who had died in a freak car accident a few years earlier at the age of 16.  I remember I was crying when I read that Edwards had climbed up on the medical examiner's table in order to embrace Wade for one last time. Even though I neither knew him nor Wade, but the image of a parent facing such immense tragedy made me too sad; not knowing that someday in the future I will be in a similar boat.  A few years later, when the news of his infidelity broke out, I immediately thought of his wife, the late Elizabeth Edwards. In my opinion, a bereaved mother who had survived the loss of her first-born child and was terminally-ill with cancer, did not deserve to have her heart broken again by her life-long partner. I always thought of her as a survivor and a very strong woman, and hope she is now reunited with her beloved Wade.

Eight Months

It is almost eight months since the dreadful day when the apple of my eye, my Shahdi, took her last breath and left us with an incurable wound in the land of the living, but in the most feared and detested area: the parents' hell. The events between November 26 when I found Shahdi's lifeless body, and November 30th, when Shahdi moved to her final resting place, sadly, a cemetery, are kind of blurry in my mind. I remember I was trying to function as normally as possible under the enormous weight of grief, while visiting with our guests and the steady stream of people who stopped by throughout the following days to offer their condolences and bring us love, support, crying shoulders, flowers, and food. Our Arman arrived on November 27 and took over the management of the household and food preparation for all the guests while he was here for six weeks after the passing of his sister. I don't know what we would have done without his help. He is a wonderful son and we are so fortunate to have him. May he live a long and happy life. May we not live long enough to ever see him in harm's way. May he be spared from enduring any more distress in his life.

The Greeting Party in the Other Realm

As I was driving to Lincoln on I-80 this afternoon, I was thinking of Shahdi on the last day of her life. On that day I was leaving late for work to take care of a business for my parents, and saw Shahdi come up and open the refrigerator to find something for breakfast. She had her blue plaid pyjama pants on and a black sweatshirt. I said hello and goodbye and ran out the door as I was late. I had no idea that I would never ever again see her alive!

The Final Impulsive Act

This afternoon, I was re-immersed in the darkest depth of sorrow and regrets due to some new information I received on the events leading to Shahdi's death. I had the opportunity to read the texts exchanged between Shahdi and one of her best friends in the last hour of her life. After reading Shahdi's messages, I realized that as we had guessed, Shahdi had acted impulsively to end her life in order to free herself of the physical and emotional pain she was feeling that doomed afternoon due to severe PMS symptoms combined with a debilitating anxiety attack. I found her at 5:20 PM, probably not long after she had taken her last breath.

Personal Grief Journey

In the weeks following Shahdi’s departure, several people encouraged us to seek professional help in the form of grief counseling, group therapy, grief videos and books. I have not yet explored any of these opportunities because I have not needed them. First of all, we had such an outpour of love and support from our family and friends in the first six weeks that hardly left us much time alone to ponder long over the tragedy that had befallen us. Secondly, Shahdi’s memorial page has been the best therapy for me personally.

Walking Path

This morning, Toby and I took a long walk on our neighborhood walking path. It was the first time this year that I had done so. When we got to the first pond, I saw a big flock of ducks and it brought back many fond memories of Shahdi and Arman when they were small and enjoyed handing out bread to the ducks. As we continued our walk and passed the second pond, we reached the apple trees which had the delicious apples. I remembered the story my father had told me many times about the time when he and Shahdi had gone on a walk together and reached the apple trees. My father had expressed an interest in picking some apples but had decided not to because they didn’t have anything in which they could put the apples. Thus, he was about to abandon his wish and move on, when Shahdi had pointed out to him that she could fit a few apples in her overall’s pockets and he could fit a few in his pants’ pockets as well. So, Shahdi had first stuffed a few apples in his grandfather’s pockets and then hers, and afterwards, happily marched on towards home! 

Sharing my office with Shahdi's memory

Today is my 3-year anniversary at my current job. It is ironic that Shahdi did not have the opportunity to come to my office in Omaha but instead her pictures are on display in every corner here. The two Lily plants and the two African violet pots given to us in her memory are also adorning my office. Basically, as I look around my office, I am reminded of Shahdi and I feel like I am sharing this space with my beloved daughter, if not in person but in spirit at least.

Compassionate Beyond Her Years

Last night, I needed to hear my daughter’s voice. Thus, I decided to watch one of the self-videos Shahdi had recorded in November 2008. She was fourteen at the time of the recording, about a month shy of her 15^th birthday. In this video she had expressed her longing for her best friend who had passed a year earlier. She was talking about how she missed her. How she could not get over the unfairness of the fact that Lauren did not even get a chance to celebrate her 14^th birthday. How she used to envision Lauren walking through the hallways at Lincoln Southwest high school, wondering how she would have looked. How she was thinking of Lauren every second of her waking hours. How she had tried hard to block Lauren from her thoughts but had not been able to. How she felt that she had not done enough for her friend. How disappointed she was that she had not been able to save Lauren through love. How she had believed Lauren when she promised her she would get better. How she had not been able to protect Lauren from cancer.

When I look at your daughter...

When I look at your daughter...

I am not really seeing her...

    but my own daughter at that age,

When I see your interactions with your daughter,

    I recall my own interactions with my daughter when she was your daughter's age,

Reminding me…

4th of July 2014

About an hour ago I was sitting in a fold-up lawn chair in the dark, alone, looking up at the sky and watching the fireworks. I could hear my friends' voices in the background, and could see the silhouette of a few people in the street in front of me. It was a perfect night for the July 4th celebration, cool, calm, with almost no mosquitoes. Halfway through watching the fireworks, I lost my sense of time and space and wandered back to the bygone times when my children were young and we used to celebrate the 4th at our house. As I was looking at these beautiful displays of colorful lights brightening the night sky, I thought of my children who were deprived of seeing the beauty I was witnessing tonight; one due to the side effects of the hurricane on the East coast of the US, the other by being buried a few feet under ground:-( Consequently, for a few minutes I was no longer able to see anything either because of the tears which blocked my vision. It is hard to be a parent under the best circumstances, then what can a mother in my situation expect? Shahdi joon, I miss you darling. I wish you were here. I think of you in every step I take. Hope you are at peace my love. Good night sweetheart.

Siblings' Love

From the moment Arman appeared in the third chapter of my life story as a main character, I started worrying about his future and how to keep him safe and happy. It didn't take me long to realize that we had to have more children, at least one more, so that Arman would not grow up with no siblings and be alone for the rest of his life. Four years later, our beautiful Shahdi, our bundle of joy, arrived. From the moment she was born, I tried my best to nurture a loving relationship between Arman and Shahdi, a bond which could have withstood a lifetime. As soon as Shahdi grew out of her baby crib, we put them in the same bedroom, sharing a bunk bed and everything else. I believe our strategy paid off and by the end of the sixth year when Shahdi finally moved out to her own bedroom, they had become very close and loving towards one another. Their love persevered through the years despite a couple of disagreements in the last year of Shahdi's life. Shahdi had an unconditional love for her brother, and vice versa. Arman loved his sister very much and was not happy with the way she was affected by depression. He did his best to help her as well but the final outcome was not something that any of us expected.

Seven Months

Shahdi Joon – Today was one of those days that if I had used all the cuss words in every language I speak, it would not have been enough to express my frustration and anger with life’s bitter injustices. Had I run into the ‘creator’ today, who knows what would have happened to him/her!!  For the first time ever in the last seven months, the thought did occur to me, even though momentarily, that maybe you were right and there was too much pain in this world. But, then my fighter spirit rose up again to re-focus my mind on life and the living!

A letter from one of Shahdi's friends

Hello Setareh!  

I just wanted to tell you how much I think about Shahdi and how much I miss her. I lay awake at night often, remembering the times we used to spend together as kids and teenagers. All the slumber parties and birthdays and Panera runs in the mornings. And although we didn't hang out much outside of school in high school, we always would have classes together and we'd always sit together and joke and laugh and try our best to pay attention, but it rarely worked when we would sit together.

Far Away Family

When I left Tehran in the summer of 1979 to go to college in the US, I never thought that 35 long years later, my daughter, my flesh and blood, would be buried, 3.5 hours from my starting US location, in Lincoln, Nebraska!! Nothing in my life had prepared me for such an event. It was not supposed to happen to us, to me, to my child! I often wonder if Shahdi had grown up around her extended family, would her depression over the loss of her friend have lasted as long, or would it have been overcome by the love and support of grandparents, uncles, aunts, cousins, and the other family members?

Her 2nd Birthday

Today, as I traveled down the memory lane, I remembered when I was getting Shahdi dressed for her second birthday party, before the arrival of our guests. She was standing on her white changing table while I was putting her party clothes on her: a black over-the-knee flowing skirt with a matching black top which had subtle silver dots and a small black bow in the middle of the chest. I then put her black tights and the black patent leather shoes on her. Subsequently, we got to the last part which always was her least favorite: her hair! Due to the fact that she was a very active child with curly hair, it sometimes was hard to comb through her thick curly hair.

Les Espoirs Fracassés

Il me semble que j’ai  perdu la raison de mon existence. La mort de Shahdi a complètement changé ma perspective de la vie. Je ne vois pas pourquoi  je continue de vivre. Je suis déprimée et prêt pour la fin. Tout cet effort quotidien pour quoi?  Ma seule fille, qui était la pomme de mes yeux, est partie. Je n'ai plus personne avec qui je peux partager  mes sentiments de femme. Shahdi m'aurait compris et peut-être un de ces jours elle pourrait être devenue mon confident, mon meilleure amie, comme je suis à ma maman. J'ai perdu cette possibilité pour toujours.

Six months

My Dear Shahdi, “Nour-e Cheshmam”,

It has been six months since the night your lifeless body was carried out of your childhood home as your father, grandfather and I were standing in the hallway, in shock and utter disbelief, helplessly watching your final departure. The home you happily entered at the age of two and left twenty six days short of your 20th birthday. You almost made it to your third decade of life - almost.

Gloomy Day in Omaha

It is a very gloomy day in Omaha, rainy with a totally gray overcast sky and cool weather. However, nature's dreariness today sort of fits my mood. When I see the rain, I cannot  help but think of Shahdi in her white coffin. All through winter, I knew that she most likely was preserved as I bid farewell to her before her coffin's lid was lowered down and closed for the last time, due to the freezing temperature and lack of moisture. However, ever since the April showers started and the weather started warming up, I have not been able to stop thinking of how she looks now. Is her coffin flooded?  Is she soaked in water and mud?  How does her beautiful face look now?  Decomposing? Looking like zombies, who she portrayed several years at Lincoln's Zombie Walk? What is happening to my gorgeous daughter? 

My Fashion Consultant

Shahdi used to be my fashion consultant. Sometimes I would ask her opinion but at other times she would volunteer it without being asked! One of her favorite adjectives to use when she disliked something I had bought was 'hideous'! I have a few purses and skirts which were given that label by Shahdi! She took it very seriously when her opinion was solicited on an outfit or object. Hence, her opinions were not for people with a faint heart because she could be quite critical in her honesty and frankness. I appreciated those qualities in her though. I knew that if Shahdi approved of something, it must be perfect. She was very detail-oriented and a perfectionist and applied these principles to her own grooming as well when she was getting ready to go out. Her hair and makeup had to be flawless. She generally took very good care of her face and I shared my moisturizers, cleansers, and facial masks with her, or I should say she shared them with me! I had told her many times that she didn't yet need much of them at her age, but she didn't believe me. It breaks my heart to pieces when I think of how her beautiful skin must look now... My mother adored Shahdi and the fact that it was very important to Shahdi to look beautiful. Shahdi had definitely inherited this characteristic from her grandmother and not from me!

Queen of Brownies

When Shahdi became a vegetarian in ninth grade, she slowly started experimenting with cooking simple food for herself. Towards the end, she had mastered a few dishes including ‘Thai peanut sauté’. She had learned the recipe from her brother but had slightly modified it to her taste. A few of her friends told me later how they loved her cooking. One of the dishes she prepared, which I really liked, was made with cauliflowers. She cooked a whole cauliflower, then mashed and mixed it with melted cheese, garlic, salt and pepper. It looked like mashed potatoes but the flavor was very different and distinct.  One of her favorite spices, which she liberally sprinkled on all her hot food, was garlic powder. Once she liked the taste of something, it would become her favorite.  Then, she would eat it regularly for a few weeks until she would get tired of it. At one point, baked potatoes with different toppings were her favorite and she would fix some for herself after school. I always kept a stack of frozen Lean Cuisine vegetarian dishes and pizza in the freezer. Every time I saw a new vegetarian dish, I would get it for her to try. Sometimes it was a hit, sometimes not. If she didn't like it, she would ask me not to buy it again. In fact, there are still a few of those entrees in the freezer because my beloved Shahdi did not have enough time to finish them all. So sad indeed…

Peace

About a month after the passing of my dear Shahdi, friends and relatives started encouraging me to quit wearing the mourning color of black. My polite response to them was that I would stop wearing black when I would reach some level of internal peace with this colossal tragedy that transformed my life into an abyss of regrets, longing, and sorrow.

Five months later, I am still wearing black because peace has not yet been within my reach. Peace eludes me. Black fits my mood which is shrouded under dense black clouds. Clouds which belong to a savage storm that invaded my life a few months ago.  A storm with severe lightening, fierce winds, and flooding rain which has stayed around for months and is only slightly letting up lately. In the virtual island where I reside now, the island of the “Unfortunate Parents”, it rains forever and the blue sky is always covered by the dark clouds. If I reach some level of peace, I might be able to move into a neighborhood on this virtual island where the effects of the storm are not as intense, where the dark clouds are still there but the lightening is less frequent and the rain is more intermittent.   

Forever

A few days after the passing of my darling Shahdi, a fear started growing in me of Shahdi being forgotten over time. I became afraid that someday no one will even remember that she once existed!  That there once lived this beautiful intelligent kind girl called, Shahdi M. Negahban. Thus, I started researching how I could keep her memory alive. I looked into establishing a foundation in her honor but realized that it needed either private funding or continuously active fund-raising.  The former is not an option for us and the latter would be very difficult due to the full-time work schedule of both me and Mehrdad. Another alternative was creating a website to provide help to troubled teens.  I have not given up on that idea but it would require a lot of research and planning.

Five Months...

My Dearest,

It has been five months since your departure from our imperfect world but it feels much longer to me. You cannot imagine how I miss you darling: your voice, your calling me "Mommy", your beautiful face, your wonderful laugh, your long hair... I simply miss everything that embodied you.

Grief exposes one to a range of new and strange feelings and emotions. Sometimes while surrounded by people, I can feel totally alone and out of place. In the middle of conversations, meetings, outings, I can feel totally detached and isolated - like in the movies when they first show a character in the middle of a busy place and then they black out the background, showing only the character in deep thought. Except in my case, it is not a movie set; it is my reality, my life, my real emotions and the real feeling of isolation in a group. In such moments, my only thought is you, my darling daughter; the only feeling is the longing to see and hold you in my arms again; everything else is obscure and unimportant.

Shahdi joon, you are loved and missed beyond words can express. You know…

Rotating-Beds Ritual

My beloved mother-in-law used to be amused during her visits by the nighttime activity at our house! She found it interesting that where (which bedroom) we went to bed was usually not the same as where we woke up!! When the kids were under 10 or 11 years old, they occasionally would get up in the middle of the night and crawl in bed with us. The first one up was usually Shahdi. Both Mehrdad and I loved to have the kids over, even though sometimes it was hard to fit four people in our bed! As the kids grew bigger and took more bed space, something or someone had to give! Therefore, after the kids would join us, either Mehrdad or I would get up and go to a vacant bed in another room! Sometimes we were followed a short while later by the kids! At times it was hilarious, but at other times when we needed a good uninterrupted sleep on a work or school night, it was exhausting! I loved snuggling in bed with little Shahdi. She looked and slept like a small angel. However, as the angel grew bigger and stronger, it became a little harder to sleep next to her because occasionally as she was tossing and turning in her sleep, you would get hit in the face or head with one of her arms or hands!! Or, you could get hit on the side by one of her knees! Thus, that is when the amusing rotating-beds ritual started at our house!

Missing You

Dearest Shahdi,

I am so glad that I had the opportunity to share my socks, jewelry, scarves, belts, skirts, sweatshirts, headbands, hair products, makeup, perfume, yoga pants, hats, gloves, hair brushes, tapestries, vases, candle holders, etc. with you. Forgive me darling for losing my temper sometimes when I was looking for a specific thing in my drawers and found it missing. Forgive me for scolding you for not returning them to their original place after you were done using them.  How stupid I was indeed for getting upset over such trivial matters!

Four-month anniversary.....

My Darling Shahdi,

I miss you so much. You have been an important part of my life for over twenty years. I lived and breathed for you and Arman. You two were the most cherished and guarded treasures in my life, and now with you gone, I feel robbed, incomplete, lost. I don’t feel whole any more. Today is four months since your departure. I enter our house every evening calling your name, hoping you would answer. I can feel your spirit in the house even though I cannot see you in person. I can close my eyes and picture you at the different stages of your growth in different corners of the house. How I miss those times! How I miss your high-spirited, confident, active presence in your childhood house. This house is forever marked by you because sadly you also took your last breath here.

My beautiful Shahdi, how I wish none of this had happened and the last four months were just a nightmare. How I wish we still had you with us. How I wish you had moved out of your home to go to college, not to a cemetery. How I wish I had been able to help you. Please forgive me my love. I wish I could have done more. I wish I had been wiser and more capable. Even though you are no longer with us, but you are always with me.

For as long as I live, I will be a mother of two: a boy and a girl. I love you sweetheart. Rest in peace my darling child.

Visiting my beloved Shahdi for Nowruz.

Leave Shahdi in the past? No way!

Tonight our guest walked into my home office and found me scanning pictures of infant Shahdi. He looked at me and told me that it was a mistake to live in the past!

To live in the past?!!  Are you serious?!  My flesh and blood died only 3.5 months ago and already he expects me to forget her and move on with my life!!  How easy it is for others to belittle your grief!  

Life is an experience..

In the dark and lonely moments of despair and total hopelessness when we may even question our very existence, we need to separate ourselves momentarily from our immediate pending problems which may seem insurmountable, and instead reflect upon how far we have managed to travel since our life journey began with our entrance into this world.  I believe this reflection will be most crucial in refocusing our attention on 'life' rather than the alternative which will eventually find us in time even if we don't willingly seek it.

From the moment we are born, the struggle to survive against all odds (accidents, neglect, abuse, disease, violence, crime, natural disasters) begins. If we count everything that a baby needs to learn in her/his first year of life, it will be a very long list including learning to suckle, to get attention, to hold the head steady, to control the hand movements, to roll over, to sit up, to crawl, to walk, to try to talk, to hold a bottle or cup, to use a spoon/fork, to understand language, to follow commands, etc.  These are just a few of the many things a human baby has to struggle to learn in the first year of life.

Life Lessons

Life has taught me a few lessons in the past three months; some have been very hard and bitter but others sweet and encouraging.

The most important lesson is that one cannot take life for granted and no one knows when their time is up. So, better enjoy every minute of every day because that might be our last day, last minute, and last breath.  When I saw Shahdi in the morning on November 26, 2013, she had just woken up and was looking in the refrigerator for something to eat. Neither she nor I knew that by 5PM that day, she would be gone forever. Had I known….

Suicide

Losing one’s child is the ultimate tragedy, the worst nightmare from which one never wakes up, the most devastating event that could happen in one’s life, the darkest curse, the deepest sorrow for one’s soul, the end of a hopeful journey, and the unnatural break in the circle of life.

However, losing one’s child to suicide is even worse because in addition to all of the above, one feels like a total failure.

Missing The Apple of My Eye

شادی من دختر زیبایی‌ بود که حال فقط می‌توان او را از توی قاب عکسهای آویخته شده روی دیوار تماشا و تحسین کرد و روح مهربان و لطیفش را تنها در چهارچوب لغات و جملات حس کرد.  آخر این چه انصافی است در زندگی‌؟

Shahdi Negahban at different stages of her short life (Dec. 22, 1993 - Nov. 26, 2013)

I love you sweetheart!

Forever My Beautiful Daughter..

Dear Aunt Nahid

In memory of my dear aunt, Nahid Mohrdar Ghaemmaghami (a.k.a. - Sajjadi), who passed away ten days ago in Tehran.

I was deeply saddened to learn of Nahid Joon’s passing. I loved Khaleh Nahid dearly and I am so sorry that I never got a chance to see her beautiful face one more time. This has certainly been a very trying period in the lives of all of us. In the last seven weeks, I have lost three family members: my darling Shahdi, Mehrdad’s Ame Ferdows and Nahid joon. I hope this is not a trend to be continued for the rest of the year.

I was so touched by Nahid joon’s several calls since Shahdi’s passing. She told me many times when she called that she wished she had died instead of Shahdi because she had lived a full life and Shahdi had not. Even though I had not seen her since 1979 but the love that we had for each other never faded and in the moments when I needed the support of my family the most, she reached out to me even though she was not feeling well. I will forever remember her love and support as I was grieving for Shahdi. Even though I was dealing with the loss of my beautiful daughter but it broke my heart to see Nahid joon weeping so hard for Shahdi and for me, when she herself was suffering from a terminal illness. She cried alongside me and did her best to comfort me with her kind words. She said it should have been her who died and not my young and beautiful daughter. I was very sorry to see her so affected by my loss and wished she was not told about Shahdi because I didn’t want her to spend the last few weeks and months of her life crying over my daughter. But, I suppose Shahdi’s death was not something that could be kept as a secret for long considering how big our family is and how news is shared on the internet in this day and age. I simply did not wish to add to her emotional burden when she was already suffering physically from a dreadful disease. But, she already knew and nobody could hide the tragic truth.

Difficult Day

Today was not a good day for me. It was MLK day and I didn't have to go to work, which was the only good part about today!  In the morning I picked up my parents and we went to visit Shahdi. It is still unbelievable that I have to go to a cemetery and stare at a 3' by 7' patch of dirt to feel close to my daughter! How surreal!  I still am not used to the cemetery visits. It makes me extremely sad to think of my Shahdi lying in her white coffin so many feet under where I am standing. It simply feels unnatural that her mother is above ground but she is under! That is not the way it should have been.

Everywhere I went today, I missed Shahdi. From grocery stores, to clothing stores, to the Mall. They all reminded me of Shahdi. I catch myself now and then staring at little girls or teenaged girls, trying to imagine my Shahdi at that age. That makes my heart ache so much. How I miss my little pretty girl! How I used to buy her stuff and bring them home when she was a kid as she would get so excited to see what I bought her. I wish my daughter were alive so I could buy her the world if that would have made her happy.

The "Unfortunate Mothers" Club

The “Unfortunate Mothers” Club

On Tuesday, November 26^th, 2013, I unexpectedly received admission against my will to an exclusive club, the Unfortunate Mothers Club!  I knew my grandmothers, my mother-in-law, and my aunt Guity had been lifetime members of this unfortunate club but I never in my wildest dreams thought I would one day become a member too. I would have done anything in my power to avoid it had I known the enormous cost of membership.

When I was growing up, I had heard on numerous occasions about the premature death of Aunt Ezat and Uncle Sehaam on my paternal side, and two uncles on my maternal side who had perished as young boys. It was not until I left childhood and entered adolescence that I finally realized the gravity and sadness of these stories. Until then, this history had not stirred much emotion in me, but as I became a teenager and my understanding of death became more profound, I began to understand the enormity of the losses endured by my family, in particular by my grandparents.

Forgive me..

Forgive me Shahdi joon for having been an incompetent mother by failing to help you, to understand you and your pain, for making you feel like I was disappointed in you… My darling beautiful baby girl, please forgive me. You were the apple of my eye, how could I not love you?  I didn’t like some of the decisions you had made but I was never ever ‘disappointed’ in you. You had your entire life ahead of you, filled with opportunities and possibilities. How could I be disappointed?  Your life was just beginning!  I was here to help and support you if you would only let me. I was your mother. I would have given my life for you. 

Death

I am not afraid of death anymore. Death is now my friend; previously ignored and unwelcome, now in our close circle, intimately known to us. I am not afraid of death anymore because Shahdi was not afraid of it. If my darling young beautiful daughter was able to face death all alone, courageously and willingly, on that doomed Tuesday afternoon, so can I, with my old, heart-broken, tired body and suffering soul. I am not afraid of you Death! You took my daughter at the prime of her life without giving me a chance to fight you, to save her, but now I will not fight you anymore. If I have to go through you to see the beautiful face of my darling Shahdi, I will do that in a heartbeat, willingly and courageously as she did. I will depart with you as early as possible if you promise to take me to her.  I so miss her… Beyond words can ever express.  What is my life without the love of my life, the light of my eye?  I am nothing but a shattered soul, a grieving mother with a broken back like a crippled bird without its wings.

If in death Shahdi managed to achieve eternal peace, then I would like to follow in her footsteps because life without her would be a cruel slow torture for me. How could I enjoy living, breathing, eating, laughing, etc. while she is slowly decomposing in her white coffin underground?  There is no joy in living when the apple of my eye is no longer here with us. She was our Joy, our Happiness, as she was for so many long years until her soul was touched by the death of her friend. It seems like Death not only took Lauren but took Shahdi’s zest for life too.  After Lauren’s death, Shahdi was never the same happy soul she used to be. She changed completely and started on a self-destructive path, guided by Death. We tried to intervene, to push away the dark gloomy clouds looming over her soul but did not succeed. We thought she was finally getting over her loss and fascination with death, only to be totally taken off-guard by her suicide. Who would have known that the fate of such a happy beautiful talented girl would be to die by her own hands?  

Why could not you spare her Death?  Why did you come for her?  Did not you see that she had suffered enough by the loss of her friend?  Were you not satisfied with taking Lauren? Did you have to return to take Shahdi too?  Why? Why didn’t you let her live the life that she had envisioned in her preteen years? A normal happy life of graduating from high-school, going to college, falling in love, having her own family, etc.  Why did you deny her these opportunities?  I would have gladly given up my life for her and gone with you. I wish you had taken me instead of her.

What is the point of living with this enormous pain?  I hope I don’t have a long life because it would be like a long torture. After my parents are gone, I will definitely have no obstacles to disappear from the face of this Earth. I know Arman will miss me and that pains me, and I will miss him dearly, but the pain of losing one’s parents is more tolerable than the pain of losing one’s child. Arman would understand why I wanted to leave in order to unite with Shahdi, to see her again, to hear her voice, to hear her laughter, to gaze at her beautiful perfect face and those gorgeous eyes.  Ah, Shahdi joon, how I miss you my love!  My kind talented responsible baby girl…

Colossal Tragedy at Home

Today is Tuesday, December 31, 2013, New Year’s Eve. Exactly five weeks ago from today (Nov. 26), my life changed forever and I was forced to face the most horrifically challenging event in my life.

I drove to Lincoln after working all day in Omaha and got home at around 5:20PM.  I parked my car in the garage, entered the mud room, then the laundry room, and then walked through the family room towards the kitchen. The lights were on, so was the TV, and Shahdi’s PC was playing music. I called Shahdi but got no answer. Once I reached the kitchen table, I saw something in my peripheral vision on my left; turned to the left and saw something that seemed surreal: Shahdi was standing there with her back to me. But that was not all. There were two cables hanging from the upstairs’ railing, there also was the small black ottoman behind Shahdi. What did that mean?  No, I could not believe what I was seeing. I must be mistaken. This could not be what I thought it could be. No way!  I ran towards Shahdi calling her. I looked down; her feet seemed to be touching the floor. I looked up; her eyes were half open, saliva drooling from her half open mouth. I called her again thinking she was playing a prank on me. But there was no response.