We had out-of-state guests
this weekend and since neither Mehrdad nor our guests were that talkative, the
responsibility of being an engaging hostess fell on my shoulders. Thus, I had
to make a good effort to entertain our guests and make the ambiance more
comfortable and friendly. I tried hard to be entertaining by sharing funny
stories of our trips, recent news, etc. Had someone not known about my grief,
they would have thought I was the most happy-go-lucky person around! How far I
had successfully stretched my exterior façade from my reality! As the sociologists state, we all engage in
different phases of acting during our social interactions in a typical day. After
over five decades of practice, my acting skills have become quite polished and
convincing. I kept the ruse going until my sister-in-law picked up the
scrapbook where I had collected Shahdi’s writings, drawings and other awards.
Putting myself in her shoes and thinking of what she would be looking at right
then across the room from me, suddenly totally destroyed my carefully
constructed façade. In less than a minute, my grief took center stage and I had
to take refuge in the kitchen to hide the uncontrollable tears which were
flowing down my cheeks. The old Persian saying is that death is only a
heartbeat away. I can also attest that grief is also only a breath away. No
matter how hard one tries to keep it hidden, it sometimes shows its sad face by
the most harmless and unintended provocation. The transformation of my mood
happened much faster than the total eclipse which we had observed earlier this
afternoon. My earlier sunny disposition was instantly covered by my dark grief
and it still has not recovered from the darkness. Such is the story of long-lasting grief...
