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.