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Wednesday, March 22, 2017

30-Year Grief

Yesterday, I called my friend's mother in California to offer her the Nowruz greetings. She is visiting from Iran and I had met her years ago when my friend lived in Lincoln. She is a sweet and chatty old lady, pushing towards ninety. I never forget her statement when she called me from Iran to offer her condolences on the passing of my daughter. She told me, "delet amad pahlooye dele man." which means, "your heart is now next to my heart". That simple statement beautifully summed up the emotinal state of two bereaved mothers with a 30+ year age difference. In a way, her short sentence revealed to me her continuing grief for the loss of her two young sons who were executed in prison almost thirty years ago due to their political viewpoints . She knew I understood her pain. She knew that with me, she did not have to pretend to have forgotten about her lost sons. With me, she could be her true self, with no mask. In a way, her statement acted as a revelation to me that the road of grief for a bereaved parent has no end indeed.

Yesterday, she again tried to console me on my loss and to show me that I can live with this pain as she had lived with hers for almost thirty years. She talked about her sons who were arrested while studying at the university. Interestingly, as a religious woman, she was not mad at God but the cruel government which had taken the lives of her sons. In my case, as an agnostic, I can't put the blame on God or anyone else but myself.

This wise old lady is proof that the pain of such a heartbreak will never fade, but goes into hiding and will resurface only in certain situations. When she speaks to me, she views me as a kindred spirit and opens up her heart to me. Something she can not do with her children. I understand her completely. I too have reservations about talking about Shahdi with my family and friends because I feel they have moved on and don't wish to be reminded of our tragedy. But, for me, the tragedy is always remembered, and Shahdi, always missed.

At the end, one can never live a normal life when a big chunk of one's heart and soul is ripped apart and gone forever. At best, one can try to continuously stay busy and distracted.

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