From the other side

I started writing this post from the living room of my grandmother’s house in Nablus overlooking a breathtaking panoramic view of what is known here as the northern mountain or Mount Ebal.

Ever since my sister and I arrived I was so eager to sit down and put on paper the beauty that my eyes and heart have captured in the past few days.

I was raised to love this city and appreciate its beauty despite all the difficulties and humiliation we used to endure while crossing the bridge. 

Every time we come to Nablus my father would take us to the old city to walk on the footsteps of his childhood. You could see the pride in his eyes and smile while telling us all the stories about his school, his father, grandfather, the family business or what was called the ‘sabbaneh’ where they used to make Nabulsi soap and tahini.  The tour would always end with a big breakfast in the old city with the rest of the family men who’d take a break from work to join the feast!

This gathering would be the only party we’d know and enjoy in Nablus.

Above: The old city
Below: View from my grandmother's kitchen

Because of the occupation everyone would go home before sunset and stay there till the next day. We weren’t allowed to look out the window or even think of going out on our own. Crossing the bridge used to take hours and when you’d think it was over you’d be welcomed by another checkpoint right outside the city making it look like a huge prison.

When we crossed a few days ago I was dreading the experience. But when my cousin started driving through Jericho I knew that this time we were going to see a different face of Palestine. We were pleasantly surprised to find out that the checkpoint outside Nablus was removed and that we can actually drive into the city without having to show any ID or walk for a mile to take a taxi from the other side.

Spring was all around. The road was greener than I’ve ever noticed. Suddenly I felt this huge anticipation to get there. The minute we drove into the city my heart dropped.  I felt like a little child so eager to get out of the car and run to my grandmother’s house.

The neighbourhood was still the same, but something was different in the air. It felt as if everything, the roads, the trees started to breath again.

The biggest surprise was the view from the living room. As the Arabic proverb says “the view adds years to your life!”

For years we’d take a peak of the mountain through tiny holes of security grilles, which my grandmother decided to remove recently as if to usher in the beginning of a new chapter in the city’s history.

Just like my grandmother, I felt the whole city got rid of its own grilles.

Though people still live under occupation they started to get a taste of what it feels like to lead a normal life.  Little things we take for granted like eating out, going to the movies or having brunch in a nice cafe, to them were major breakthroughs. 

I couldn’t believe my eyes when my cousins took us for a drive around the city. It felt like we were being introduced to Nablus for the first time. I had never in my life seen a normal Nabulsi family enjoy a nice meal or a picnic on a Friday.

We spent the rest of the trip with open jaws and nostalgic hearts. Unlike the old days, this time it was hard to say goodbye.

On the way back to Jericho I was thinking how privileged I am that I can actually see the other side with all its beauty and not only hear the sad stories that always manage to suppress the new realities that inject happiness into people’s hearts from time to time.

Sad reminder – happy memory

It’s been nine mother’s days without my mom and every year I promise myself to avoid this whole victimization, or what my sister would describe as drama that people are celebrating it with their moms and I’m not!  But I can’t help but feel sorry for myself that she’s not around.

I don’t know why this feeling doesn’t strike so powerfully on other occasions like her birthday, the anniversary of her passing, her wedding anniversary, etc. It just hits me on mother’s day when everything around me, online and offline, serves as a painful reminder of the sad reality.

I remember we used to plan for this day weeks in advance. What shall we get her? How do we use it as an opportunity to tell her how much we love her?  

As kids we used to write poetry and make cards from scratch. We used to look forward to going back home from school to surprise her with our artistic creations!  I remember as an adult I’d spend time at the flower shop choosing the best bouquet of sunflowers.

 

March used to be a happy month, full of flowers and color! I can’t say it’s a sad month now, but to me it’s got a different taste. When I’m in a low nostalgic mood, I look at March as a sad reminder of her loss. But on good days, it turns into a happy memory.

And on this occasion I decided to share all the happy memories with my mom through this slideshow that my sister put together three years ago.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zLq5PJihM98

Happy Mother’s Day!

More time…

A couple of weeks ago we heard news that my grandmother wasn’t feeling well.  Though such news about any elderly approaching 90 should not come as a shock, but it did.

My grandmother is not the type that gets sick.  She has the memory and stamina of a 50-year-old. And I say that with no exaggeration…mashallah.

Ever since we got that phone call, a million thoughts cluttered my mind…all sad thoughts about life without her.

I guess regardless of the person’s age we can't imagine losing them.  And you hear comments from people like “she’s too old, you should be thankful she lived that long, etc.” But regardless, she’s a valuable human being who’s still capable of celebrating life.

I have never seen anyone who welcomes the mornings with a hug! You feel she lives every second of her mornings, starting with a prayer at the break of dawn followed by a cup of coffee. If you were half awake you’d inhale the smell of coffee while listening to her careful footsteps getting ready to recite a few verses from the Koran.

She does that until it is time to perform the midmorning prayer, which can take minutes or a whole hour.  It’s her own form of meditation, her personal time with God! It will then be time for breakfast after which her actual day starts. 

Her face is full of light! She’s all about silence inside out. I have never heard her gossip or speak ill of anybody. She can go on for hours without saying anything unless absolutely necessary.  

Simple things like calling her about a recipe or opening up to her and expect to hear a prayer or words of support before you hang up, are enough to keep you going.  

Since my mom’s passing she’s been our only pillar. She’s been our symbol of motherhood and example of a fighter who made peace with death ever since she lost two of her own children years and years ago!

I remember very clearly the morning after my mom passed away she prepared breakfast and asked us to gather around the table. It was her own way of telling us that life has to go on.

I’ve been contemplating crossing the bridge to see her but the fear of this being the final goodbye is pulling me back.  The idea of seeing her weak makes me sick. But at the same time I feel the need to go see her at home because I know that one day this house will not be the same.

I pray to God to give us more time with her. I pray he'd give us more time to consciously enjoy her presence in our life.

Yet another thread!

Nothing in life happens in vain. Every incident, event, book or coincidence has meaning. Every person who crosses our path or lands in our life does so for a reason. I’ve always carried this belief and looked for the meaning in everything. It’s like solving a puzzle and the final key unlocked comes with an Aha moment!

Have you ever bought a book, only to read it years later? And when you finally read it, you’d think to yourself “what a timing”?

This thought was prompted by a recent incident that made me think ‘why? Did this thing really need to happen to me now? As we’d say it in Arabic “ma kan fee da3i abadan!”

And I’m still trying to find the ‘Aha’ in the moment, which hasn’t come yet. I hope it would soon because my mind is still at work as to what is it that caused this incident to shake my system unnecessarily?

I remember when both my parents were diagnosed with cancer within days from each other I thought to myself there must be a good reason behind this cruel turn of events! What are the odds that a very young and extremely healthy loving couple would receive such shocking news in the same week? It took years for me to figure it out and when I did I found peace. But we don’t always find the peace because not everything that happens to us comes with an explanation. Some things remain a mystery.

But I think whether or not we find the reason it’s very important for us to pay attention to everything that happens to us and around us.  And when we do, we find ourselves drawing an invisible thread that connects all our life coincidences, leading us to an amazing story to tell our children and grandchildren.

Suddenly what you’ve originally perceived as negative meaningless circumstances, become significant synchronicities that were bound to happen to shape the person you are today.

This awareness only happens when you pay attention. I’m not trying to preach what may be obvious to many. I’m just thinking out loud in the hope of finding meaning behind the most recent thread that found its place in my hand waiting to be connected to the rest of the details of my story.

When the reason is unveiled I promise to share it in this blog! 

The life she breathed

As I was lying in bed the other day running through the events of the day in my head, I suddenly found myself thinking of the past eight and a half years I’ve lived without my mother.

Sometimes I find it very difficult to absorb the fact that I have actually managed to live for nine long years without seeing my mom, hearing her voice, feeling her presence, taking for granted that she will pick up the phone when I called home.

Sometimes I try to close my eyes and remember her voice. Every time I do that I hear her calling my name with a happy musical tone! She was all about happiness, music and love. I sometimes make up a whole conversation with her to remember what her pure soul felt like.

I’ve looked for her in the face of every woman her age, in my own face when I look at the mirror every morning! I’ve looked for her in everything she used to love; in sunflowers, hot sweet potatoes, dark chocolate and the beautiful bougainvillea she used to talk to every morning.

Losing her was our first real encounter with death. When it happened I felt that death had entered our house and took away that feeling of safety and security forever. I felt I’ve lost grip of a major string that was holding me on to life.  

I say that with total peace in my heart. But once you’ve got a taste of death you start to lose sense of life.

I wont deny the fact that I’ve totally lived those nine years; I fell in and out of love, travelled, moved two countries, changed three jobs, made many new friends who will never meet my mom. I laughed a lot and cried even more.  I lived my life like any normal human being.  But I carried a deep dormant cut that would be awakened every now and then by tough and painful times. That awful feeling of loss would hit again so hard as if it were the first time. And when that happens I’d think to myself “where did she disappear? She was just right here!”

But she would visit me in my dreams and I would hold on to the details of that dream until the next one and the next.

I’ve always wondered are we as human beings strong enough to carry such loss in our hearts and move on with our lives? Or are we very weak and tend to use God’s gift of forgetfulness to help us carry on? I honestly don’t have an answer to that.

All I know is that I miss my mom more than words can say. I miss waking up to the smell of her coffee every morning; I miss the smell of her cooking in our house, the early sound of her watering the plants. I simply miss the life she breathed into our hearts every day.

Unanswered prayers

I don’t know why this thought crossed my mind the other day. Not sure what triggered it. It could’ve possibly been a new wish or prayer that was interrupted by a voice inside my head warning me against troubling my heart with a yet another uncalled for dream!

This thought took me back to every single wish I had ever since I was 24 years old. I almost remember every conversation I had with God.

With every dream came a huge disappointment. But as the years went by all the pain caused by every unanswered prayer was replaced with gratitude.

How thankful I am for all the unanswered prayers. I don’t want to even entertain the thought of “what if” one of them had come true? Where would I be now?

What a terrifying thought!

Think for a minute if the fresh prayer that found its way to your heart today will one day turn into a suffocating thought...would this ever change the way we pray?

This thought reminded me of an old song by Garth Brooks called “Unanswered Prayers”

“Remember when you’re talking to the man upstairs

That just because he may not answer doesn’t mean he don’t care

Some of God’s greatest gifts are unanswered prayers”

A liberating thought

For as long as I can remember I’ve fantasized about a world free of complications, a world where every single word comes from the heart and every single decision is spared from any inhibiting thoughts. How amazing would it be if the mind were put to use only when necessary, and is not allowed to interfere with matters of the heart?

I’ve always longed for a world that doesn’t exist. I pondered living in my own mind-free heaven where there’s only silence, where words live in the heart and thoughts belong to bubbles.

I know what I’m saying might not make any sense but I wish we didn’t have to waste precious energy reading between the lines or storing in our hearts unspoken love or resentment.

Why does life have to be too complicated? We always hear and say things like “nothing is worth it, and life is too short”. But do we actually live this thought, absorb it with every inch of our being? We don’t…we continue to worry every day and accumulate a clutter of unnecessary thoughts that quickly become insignificant.

Imagine a world where every one of such thoughts finds its way to mindless heaven! Imagine a world where happiness is the only measure, and intuition the only guide.

A liberating thought, isn’t it?