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.