One lousy goodbye!

It was a Thursday afternoon and I was off,at my twins school dropping off some Christmas cookies .. Soon the holidays! Soon Christmas...It was cold , wet outside and grey...I felt a little bit like the weather...not well...Not sure why?

I remember the phone call from my mom.."baba is in the hospital, but it is not very serious. Your friend from school is taking care of him.."
I immediately panicked .. My mom's perception of the seriousness of the situation was not always on point...I felt a squeeze in my heart and immediately got into action ,called the medical school friend who is now a stranger and tried to be as nice as I possibly could so he can treat my dad extra special...

Then it was Friday...A morning call , a text , a fight over the phone to let my dad go in peace...and a wave of crushing sadness and complete paralysis and collapse!!!
He was gone and I did not say goodbye...

Goodbye...When was the last time I kissed him? I was trying to remember...When was the last time I smelled him? I was not able to think ...It was a blur...a feeling of obscure haziness as I was not really living but just existing in a layer of life that was lifeless, breathless and null...

He was there though for the next few days in my dreams...waiting for me in the Saide Church...in the right  aisle of the church... He was smiling at me with his extra large mouth.. and his dreamy eyes and he was happy...
I was happy too to see him... I even felt his hand touching me and it was warm and fuzzy..

Some time later,it was the airplane and the tunes of Fairouz and the mixed and intense emotions of being home and not wanting it!!! the fear of facing reality.. I might not find him in the church..I was not going to see him anymore.. I was not going to kiss him and smell him..

I did not find him...I did not say goodbye...I refused to look or listen or smell the incense ...I was just that other person who was not me ...waiting to go back home and pretend it was just a nightmare and that when I am back to the US, I would still call him and hear him and fight with him...

This was my goodbye...A lousy one!

A little bit of me

After two years, joy and tears ,I am back!
I am back to dream again, be myself ,laugh and cry...In a world that pretends to be civilized and just perfect,where humans lost their humanity, where subjects are scaled and judged by their strength or lack of emotions.. I sit here and cry! I will cry when I need to, when I want to...I will cry if I am happy or sad or when I would like to...
I will cry when life is dark...
I am me and happy to be me.. I am personal , emotional and passionate in a world that has no name, no ethics and no spirit!
I am free and pure.. Am I not His follower? .. He did cry many, many times ..Why would I not cry!?
I am the one whose eyes will be inundated when they meet a little child or other wrinkled eyes..
I am the "home" to a patient because indeed I cried when her eyes cry...
If being civilized is becoming robotic and impersonal then I choose to be wild ,raw and crude! I choose to be a cave woman...I choose to cry!
I will cry, cry, cry all the tears of the robotic humans surrounding me.. I will cry for you and for me and won't apologize!
I will cry the ocean.. I will cry the sea... the infinite majestic Mediterranean sea...I will cry for home, for the hug of my dad.. for the rare C of my daughter.. for the scratch on my son's knee.. I will cry for a fall from a scooter or from a large void in my heart when I look at the horizon and don't find home and the majestic cedar tree...
I will cry at forty...I did cry when I was four and will cry at ninety three..

My wish for you, my friend is to cry too...because your tears are the stamp of your humanity...So are mine...
I am personal, passionate and I cry...No apologies for being me!

RR.


 

My first Thanksgiving

November is here...almost over...
November brings a lot of memories ,some of them are good,some aren't...But one of the most memorable events that I cherish is my first thanksgiving in the USA.
In Staten Island,in a small apartment I see faces gathered around a small table ready for some good food...It was cold...May be because the landlady had control over the heat...I don't remember..It was cold outside but warm and fuzzy inside especially that the person I loved who is my today's husband was there...
That week,I went to the grocery store and had to bring a turkey home with me.I was just getting familiarized with the" spend x amount of money and get a free turkey"...I thought it was cool and was planning to bring in the largest turkey to fully take advantage of the offer!
In Lebanon,in my family,turkeys were not welcomed.My mother did not like them.She thought they were too big and too dry...
But,when I came to the USA,it was not my mom's choice anymore.It was mine.I was the cook and I had to experiment and explore...So I called a relative and I spoke with some friends and I decided to go ahead and go on my adventurous turkey cooking ride!
I woke up in the early morning and got ready for the difficult task,as I was told the cooking time would be more than 8 hours...My memory stops here...I know that I waited and waited and waited and the stuffed turkey was still hard and uncooked...As I was challenging myself,(by the way I always happily do) I pretended the big bird was a chicken..I knew how to handle the Lebanese small chicken so why would it be so hard to master a huge American turkey,the biggest in the store? I waited and waited and waited...Finally the turkey according to my instinctive cooking flair was done...
Indeed,it was...
Next, I remember a lot of friends,all from the other gender sitting around the table,mouths open and drooling, ready for the promised turkey feast...By the way,I was the only girl that year who travelled to the US from our class...Always,ready for challenges...
The table was small and the rice stuffed bird was huge!Some tabboule and string beans supplemented the feast as well as some yogurt to drench the dry,on an as needed basis...That day,I totally understood the expression dry as a bone,you might guess why!
At the end of the feast, I received some compliments on my emerging cooking skills and I was pleased and wanted to believe the unbelievable that I had mastered the turkey...
With a bit of denial and a spice of chosen naiveté, I was happy with myself and gave my inside self multiple pats on the shoulder...
My memory of that day was that the turkey was experimental,the company fun and the faces jolly.Everyone seemed satisfied and full.In the end,I was the only girl and Lebanese friend who theoretically knew how to cook!
My first Thanksgiving in the USA with the man of my heart (this sentence is a translation) and some other friends was a day to remember...A date that marked a new life for me,a life of my choosing in a new country,a new home and a large family some years later!
Now my turkey is fresh,small and moist...Life taught me so many lessons..One of them,is how to cook a turkey!

Have a blessed and happy Thanksgiving!

Roula.

A scent and a tree..

It is a beautiful morning, today.The weather is just right,not too hot,not too cold..I love it when I feel a small breeze on my face...I am driving to work,just on time..I always try to choose the side roads especially in the morning as the view of the trees and the small creatures,crossing the road is relaxing and just refreshing...
I love to smell the morning,as each and every space and time has its own fragrance...In my house,the days I am working both babysitter and children are forced to smell my freshly cooked Lebanese dishes,mixed at times when I am in a big hurry with a tint of burned veggies at the deep bottom of the casserole...
Today,I have decided to wear the perfume that I have been avoiding for nine months,especially going to work in the morning...Our senses bring alive memories that we cherish or sometimes bad experiences that we try to heal from...This morning I tried to fold the page once more and give a new meaning and correlation to my flowery,subtle old perfume...give it a new dimension,a new space and time...and it felt good...
As I smell the morning in my beautiful town,I go back to years ago and I see myself sitting on a concrete bench in the street,waiting for the bus...It was early October and the first rain..I love the scent of the earth mixed with the concrete..The smell of autumn in Ashrafieh...I see myself with my sister,observing the snails which came out of nowhere,announcing the beginning of fall...It was also the first day of school...and yet,despite all the anxiety and the anticipation of the unknown felt by the little girl I was,the aroma of that early October, relishes me today and revives in me this warm fuzzy feeling of being home...
I love home, Ashrafieh,its old streets,its churches and all the faces I see when I think of it...I especially love the old pine tree,that I used to greet every morning from my small window...It holds the spirit of my grandparents...It stands majestically,over there,in my grand father's garden defying the tall buildings,embedded in the earth,almost touching the sky...
Trees fascinate me,amaze me and capture me...When I look at the oak tree protecting my today home,I feel safe and loved...It is my grand parents pine tree of yesterday...It is my shelter when I am sad or nostalgic...and the smell and sight of home,when I am driving back in the late afternoon,brings sparkles to my eyes and a happy,melodic tune to my heart..
Both my daughters strongly relate to their environment through their olfactory sense too...I often hear from my older one how this or that smell reminds her of this or that person or place...and I see myself in them...
Soon my mother will be coming..She will bring with her a scent of my childhood and the aromas of my beloved home,the memories of Ashrafieh...


Have a good evening everyone.


Love,


Roula.

a door and a window....

I have a choice...All of us have a choice..Sometimes we open a door,thinking it is the door of our future,thinking that we found our place..We make a choice,to belong somewhere and then,things happen..Sometimes ,we are so drawn to an idea,an ambition that all becomes a blur and we just move forward,ignoring all the signals,all the red flags...We pretend that they never existed!We walk a path that we were not meant to walk...we live a life that was not made for us..We simply suffer because we dont belong..It does not take long before we realize that our freedom is in our hands and that we still have a choice..making the decision to say no and to move on can sometimes take a large burden on us..But it is a decision that we have to make and it is a door that we know we have to close!
And we dont realize how hard it was and how bad things were until we get out,until we see things from afar...Some people get trapped in the wrong space and place and dont have the courage or the strength,or the wisdom to escape..Listenning to our senses and to our inner self is key and our way to the truth...
And then,the light shines in the horizon and our destiny starts taking control of our lives..Things that are meant to be fall into place...Our resistance to surrender to our destiny vanishes in a jiffy..all the obstacles seem to have never existed..It does not need more than a simple smile,a glance,an idea to know that it might work..to know that what we were looking for was always within reach..so close to us that we have never seen it or touched it!

Sometimes,life takes us so far away from where we were once that we lose touch with our past and we forget that we once were part of a crowd we now observe and don't understand...Have we really been there?..It needs a lot of conviction to be part of something and once we part for a reason,it becomes impossible to go back again..
The life we live is full of adventures and full of choices...What makes us different is the choices and the decisions we make...Our genetic apparatus and our environment merge to guide our actions and to direct our life...

Choices and decisions mold our lives...At the end of the day,it suffices to just remember that our life lies in our hands...That it is our choice...our decision...that we can open or close the door...or just fly away,from the smallest,almost invisible window at the end of a hallway....

sad....

It has been a long time since the last time I visited my blog ...I did not write because I wanted some privacy and I was enjoying my days...I did not have the time to do it and I was overall happy...
I have been thinking recently of all the people I have met so far:different people,different colors,accents,languages...I have met happy,sad,anxious,careless ones...The way I see their faces and depict their gestures and predict their reactions reflects upon my own personality...
My profession has taught me to read body language...I have learned it,practiced it and became good at it...I love the spontaneity of some of my patients and their happiness when I deliver good news...and I cannot disregard their need for help and how frustrated,unhappy,anxious some of them feel at times,with their lives,their chronic diseases and their ailment ,and how they are too proud sometimes to reveal their weaknesses...
In the exam room,I truly become a different person...I lose my name,my face and my gender...I become a listening ear and merge with my stethoscope...I become a someone who has a mission to understand,evaluate and give answers and solutions...I love what I do and it helps me thrive...
With happiness comes sadness and I know when I am happy that I have to grasp to the moment very very hard because sadness will be waving to me from afar,awaiting for me...ready to strangulate me...
Sadness and goodbyes...I cannot count how many goodbyes I have said...Each and every time this happens,I say to myself,I am used to it...I will be fine..But it is amazing,how time makes goodbyes even harder....I hate goodbyes...I hate them!!!!
I just said goodbye to my sister...My moment of sadness is here and I am contemplating it with wide eyes...It will pass soon..in the meanwhile,i have to hold on tight and dream...

Christmas....miles away...

It was in the late afternoon,and I was seeing one of my patients,when I felt a surge of happy endorphins inundate my brain cells...All these years of studying and my time precepting produced a moment of personal pride between me and myself...I was happy that I was able to diagnose based on history and physical exam and I was pretty sure of my diagnosis...but this moment of personal pride took me back where I really did not want to go,this holiday season...It took me back home,to my sister and my father...I was sitting in my room,holding my newly bought stethoscope,so excited to use it and so eager to learn and discover new things...I was so lucky to have my personal patients models,who were so patient with me and would lie down to be examined for hours,my sister and my father...I see myself reading the Bates and practicing...liver span,percussion,auscultation,palpation...repeating,poking and annoying my models...
But I am not there anymore,in my old home,with loved ones...I am here,in my office with a fading smile on my face and disobedient tears who just want to escape the gate of my soul ...I phase out.I am well known to travel in my thoughts and I cannot but leave my space to wonder the streets of Ashrafieh under the rain,in my old boots and my cosy jacket.My eyes sparkle as I see the lights of Christmas everywhere and my ears rejoice to the Christmas Carols,played on the street...Fortunately,I am alone in my office and my facial transformation is not visible to anyone but me...
Christmas has always been a joyful season for me,with a lot of emotions,charged with nostalgia,that brings me back to some points in time that I wish I could forget...happy moments that torture me...moments that are forged in my memories,moments that are transcribed in my genes and transmitted to my descendants...I cant deny who I am,my life experiences...I just have to live with the pain of being away,away from loved ones...from my home...and it is this sensitivity that I inherited and transmitted...
Back to reality...Few days ago, we were in a nursing home,my two daughters and I ,other moms and a girls scout troupe...My eyes were all on them,my girls..I wanted to capture the details of these moments and my tears were barely holding back...I saw in their sparkling eyes,my eyes and in their gestures,my gestures...I saw in their smile mine and the beaming light emanating from their faces was familiar to me..It was a moment of personal pride that would efface any regrets of leaving and going away....
It has been too many years since it was my last Christmas at home...and I thought time would take care of me but it did not...As my tears blur my vision at this moment,I don't feel sad...really, just a squeeze in my heart...just a gnawing pain that won't go away...I know...the moment will pass...but it is a moment away from my parents...I know the moment will pass and laughter will fill my house again when the crowd comes back from the last shopping trip...I know that I will feel blessed again for all the gifts I received this year,for all the good things that came my way and for the people who are in my  life,here or miles away...

So for you,people,who are living miles away from me,I am writing today to tell you that I love you and that I am thinking of you this Christmas...


Roula.