Long before I had my own children, when I was ten, my youngest aunt gave birth to an adorable baby girl. I fell in love with Mariam from the moment I laid eyes on her at the hospital. I never loved another baby so intensely until I had my own babies. I remember I used to get upset with my mom if I learned she had gone to my aunt's house while I was at school because I was jealous of her getting to see Mariam without me. My love for Mariam grew over the years even after I left Iran when she was seven years old. On a few occasions, I did babysitting for her and her younger brother when their parents had to go to a party and their nanny had the night off. I remember we used to dance and slide down the parquet floor to the Sound of Music, Sleeping Beauty, or some other famous piece of music, with Mariam and Mani following my lead while giggling and laughing at my moves! Later on, in my last year in Iran when I was a senior in high-school, I used to take Mariam with me to movies and all my close friends adored my cute, polite and stylish little cousin.
Even though, the Iranian revolution disrupted our lives and separated us but my love for Mariam never faltered. After her family moved to the US, I managed to see her only a few times in over three decades, definitely not as much as I would have liked to. Shahdi, Arman and I flew to Seattle to attend her wedding a month after the September 11 attacks in New York. I was apprehensive about the flight, but at the end, I was glad I was able to overcome my anxiety in order to participate in Mariam's wedding and witness her joyful union with a wonderful gentleman. Shahdi and Arman were the only children invited to the wedding, and the sweet seven-year-old Shahdi, being bored due to having no playmates, fell asleep on a sofa before dinner was served, dressed in her black velvet and silver taffeta dress and her black patent-leather Mary Jane shoes. She looked so adorable as always.
I often have flashbacks to that awful week in 2013 when we lost Shahdi and the painful events that unfolded throughout that week. As I was lying in bed last night, I thought of Mariam and her love for me which compelled her to leave her own daughters to travel all the way to Lincoln to offer me a helping hand and another comforting shoulder to cry on. I suppose I must have done something right as a teenager to have instilled this love in Mariam's heart which made her drop everything to be by my side as my darling daughter was being lowered into her final resting place. It was the love and presence of Mariam, my aunt, parents, brothers, brothers-in-law, sister-in-law, our friends and Shahdi's friends which enabled us to stand upright when Shahdi's coffin slowly disappeared from view.
I am forever indebted to Mariam for her love and support. Mariam, as the first baby who captured my heart, remains my most beloved cousin and has a very special place in my heart. I will never forget how she demonstrated her love for me by travelling to Lincoln on such short notice to stand by me and to support me in the darkest and lowest moment of my life.
Even though, the Iranian revolution disrupted our lives and separated us but my love for Mariam never faltered. After her family moved to the US, I managed to see her only a few times in over three decades, definitely not as much as I would have liked to. Shahdi, Arman and I flew to Seattle to attend her wedding a month after the September 11 attacks in New York. I was apprehensive about the flight, but at the end, I was glad I was able to overcome my anxiety in order to participate in Mariam's wedding and witness her joyful union with a wonderful gentleman. Shahdi and Arman were the only children invited to the wedding, and the sweet seven-year-old Shahdi, being bored due to having no playmates, fell asleep on a sofa before dinner was served, dressed in her black velvet and silver taffeta dress and her black patent-leather Mary Jane shoes. She looked so adorable as always.
I often have flashbacks to that awful week in 2013 when we lost Shahdi and the painful events that unfolded throughout that week. As I was lying in bed last night, I thought of Mariam and her love for me which compelled her to leave her own daughters to travel all the way to Lincoln to offer me a helping hand and another comforting shoulder to cry on. I suppose I must have done something right as a teenager to have instilled this love in Mariam's heart which made her drop everything to be by my side as my darling daughter was being lowered into her final resting place. It was the love and presence of Mariam, my aunt, parents, brothers, brothers-in-law, sister-in-law, our friends and Shahdi's friends which enabled us to stand upright when Shahdi's coffin slowly disappeared from view.
I am forever indebted to Mariam for her love and support. Mariam, as the first baby who captured my heart, remains my most beloved cousin and has a very special place in my heart. I will never forget how she demonstrated her love for me by travelling to Lincoln on such short notice to stand by me and to support me in the darkest and lowest moment of my life.
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