Memories
It’s funny how our brains have a selective memory of our childhood, I have memories of my father that aren’t significant times in my life but the memory has stayed with me.
Like when my friend in the first grade gave me a “ring” as a gift, which actually was a metal ring from a bottle or something, it got stuck on my finger, I remember the teacher took me to the principal’s office when she couldn’t get it out with soap and water, they called the janitor who couldn't get it off then they called my dad.
He came to school and told them not to worry, he had the proper tools at home. He took me home and cut it off without hurting me.
I’ve written about my phobia of lice; my father was there too. Or when I had a stomach ache, I have an image of him picking me up and carrying me out of school. There was the time I ate a frozen laughy taffy my friend gave me and broke my tooth, I remember him picking me up from school to take me to my dentist appointment.
I remember the summer my uncle and his family visited us in the US. My sister and I went with my dad to take them to the Indianapolis airport, we lived in Illinois at the time. After we dropped them off, we went to Purdue University where my dad was doing his PHD. He had to get some things done, afterwards he took us to the dancing fountains. (Which I’ve learned are called the Engineering Fountains)
I remember he told us to stand in front of the fountain so he could take our picture. He kept asking us to step back until we were too close and the fountain started and we got wet. We laughed so much! We went to KFC afterwards and had lunch.
When I was in college I got a monthly check from the government to cover college expenses. We had our monthly ritual where I would go cash my check and then we’d stop by a local dessert shop and get traditional Arabic ice cream. We didn’t have to go to the bank every month, but it was our special time.
He used to take us to the beach, there were these ice cream stands with the pink and white soft serve. We used to always go for ice cream in the summer. The summer before I got married he took us out for soft serve on the beach, it was such a thoughtful gesture.
When my youngest brother was born, it was the summer before the tenth grade. He taught us how to make his special soup for my mom. When we were younger he would make us cheese and jam sandwiches and put canned fruit on vanilla ice cream to make it special. He knew had to braid my hair.
The day before my wedding he realized I didn’t have a Samsonite make up case, it used to be tradition for a bride to have one. He went searching for one until he found one. I still have it even though I never use it.
He was so gentle and he always had a way of soothing my kids when they were babies. I am so grateful he met all my kids and they all know him enough to miss him. I only met two of my grandparents and I’m glad my kids had this opportunity.
I’m trying not to focus on the things he’s going to miss, my oldest graduated in May, I really missed him when we were applying for universities and choosing majors. I miss having him here to answer all of our questions. He knew everything, like all fathers do.
I’m trying to be thankful for all the time we had.
Growing up in the US he was busy with his studies but he always made time for us, every summer he took us to Indiana beach. It was an amusement park and we made so many memories there every summer. I also have memories of swimming in a lake and getting a ladybug stuck in my ear. He was there at the doctor’s appointment when they got it out. I remember how bizarre it felt.
Our last summer in the US we went on a road trip to New Jersey to visit some old family friends and we went to Six flags which was a dream come true to us kids. We took our friend’s son who was my age and had a great time.
I’m grateful for all the time my kids and kids by milk had with him. He would give them riddles to solve and they would sit with him and talk. I never thought our time with him would end so soon and I would give anything to go back in time and hug him one last time.
I’m trying to keep all these memories fresh in my brain, I don’t want to forget any details. I started something in my family WhatsApp group called “Baba used to say” where we right down sayings and prayers he used to always say.
Grief is hard and I’m doing my best, some days are harder than others. I know time heals. Sometimes very slowly.