My Mom's Father

Hello friends,

So I am back! Long story to tell you about my decision to leave and to come back, but more on that later.

I wanted to share this very poignat picture with you.



The minute I saw it, I felt such a strong emotion in me, I actually wept for my mom. It's my mom kneeling down at her father's grave in Kenya. You see, she lost her dad when she was only 13 years old, and she has shared the night of her life when she was in the hospital, knowing her father is dying on his bed. She and her family grew up in Kenya, in Nairobi and Mombassa, and they had a great life there, till the day her father passed away young. She has three brothers and four sisters, and she is the second youngest one.

She has shared with me so much about her dad, I feel like I have known him my whole life, despite not having seen him, except for one old black and white photograph. Sometimes I wish so badly I knew my mom's father because everyone talks so highly of him. He was a very respected gentleman in his days, very refined and proper.

My mom and dad recently got a chance to go to Kenya, and my mom took the oopportunity to visit her childhood home, which is still standing there. She went to the beaches where she and her friends would hang out. She relived her childhood, and every moment of her journey, she would call me up and share it with me. I sometimes wonder if maybe 30 years down the road if I will go through the same emotions if I visit Jeddah, and relive my childhood. Will it be the same for me?

In the meantime, I just look at this picture of my mom, and I see a daughter, looking at her father's grave. A child, who may be asking why her father had to die when she was only 13. I see a strong sense of a bond between them. Even if her father has left her, she continues to carry him in her heart. This moment at the grave has given her a chance to be at peace at heart that her father is in a better place.

Mansur