Monday, 12 December 2011

As She Waits For Her Plane

Mom: People liked your dad. They didn't like me, but they liked your dad. He always had kelma mnee7a for them, and he used to always smile.
Me: Yeah, I remember.
Mom: I used to always yell at the fucking sh7ad when he would ask for money... "mish darory ta3teehom masaree, bs ma fish da3i tkoni mish mnee7a" that's what he used to always tell me.

Mom: I remember before your dad died I was looking at him while he was sleeping, and I was trying to think of all the bad things that happened between us over the years. I was trying to think of them so I could get mad at him and not feel so bad, but I couldn't think of anything. It all seemed so trivial.

Mom: You guys all turned out tough. I am proud of you.
Me: You think so?
Mom: Oh yeah! Especially you! You always fool people; they think that you are the sweet soft spoken one, they have no idea what you are capable of when you get going!
Me: Yeah, I usually get like that when I have no doubt in me that the person is just an asshole.
Mom: Sometimes you don't have to wait that long to find out. Don't put up with people's shit. I never knew how to stay quiet.

Me: You know, I keep thinking about our house back home.
Mom: yeah.
Me: I keep thinking how it used to be so full. So many people lived there and we had so many pets and now nothing is left there. No one lives there anymore, not even our pets. It's kinda sad.

Mom: I can't believe I'm a widow now. It sounds so weird saying it.
Me: You don't have to say it mom. It's just a word. You can call yourself whatever you want.
Mom: Yeah, I don't wanna be a widow. Being a widow sucks.

Me: I think dad didn't want to do chemo because he knew it wouldn't have prolonged his life or at least it wouldn't have given him 'quality' life. I think he did it for us, he didn't want us to suffer more.

Mom: Your dad was so happy during the last few months he was in the states. He told me so himself. He loved being involved and in control of your lives again. You know how your dad is, you all remained his babies. He is not like me, I couldn't give a shit what you guys do (laugh).
Me: You're mean.
Mom: Oh, come on... you know I love you. I'm just not like that. You are old enough to make the right decision.
Me: I know, but it's still nice to feel like you care. Dad used to contain me. He really put my life together during his last months here.

Me: I remember when I spent the night with dad at the hospital when the doctors were adjusting his pain medication. We spent most of the night arguing. He would get upset every time I woke up when I heard him cough. He was worried I wouldn't get enough sleep for work. Then we would argue about who gets the blanket. He insisted I cover up with two blankets although I was not cold, he was worried I would get sick. It's amazing to me that someone could be in such excruciating pain and still worry so much about the other person. I guess that's what it means to be a father.

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