I also keep dreaming of a cousin of mine whom I was very fond of and who we lost much much too soon. In my dreams I him either being alive but in a deep sleep or coma, or being awake and up and running but with a brain damage that prevents him from processing his feelings and making connections with others. I once dreamt that I was somewhere up in the mountains with him and we went tubing down a river together. It was so much fun! I kept expressing to him how glad I was that he was back without speaking really, and how safe I felt with him being there next to me as we went down the river together. I kept asking myself if this really was happening as though a part of me sort of knew that this might be a dream but I still kept denying it for the fear of waking up if I really did admit it to myself. In another dream I was laying next to my cousin while he was in a full body cast from his accident. He was asleep or unconscious but somehow we were still communicating. I kept asking him to come back but somehow he either couldn't hear my plea or he couldn't understand it. It was as though he was slipping away from me; like drifting apart on two separate pieces of melting ice in the middle of an ocean. I tried to hold on to him but it seemed impossible. But still there was a warmth that I didn't want to let go of. Something very familiar. This has been a repeating theme in my dreams. But no matter how dark or happy those dreams are I still don't want to let go and wake up. There a familiar love, warmth and affection that I feel in those dreams of my loved ones that I haven't felt for a very long time.. It's as though I've gotten lost and in those dreams I find my way back again to where I need to be. Sometimes I dream of my dad and most of those times we're fighting. In the dreams I'm able to complain to him about all those things that I'm unhappy about in regard to him, but that I can't otherwise express to him whenever we talk. In some ways I feel abandoned by him. I remember how I used to adore my dad when I was much younger. To me he was God Himself. Now thinking back I keep wondering how he felt towards us and why he didn't try harder to make things right. Looking back now I realize that responsibility was put squarely on us, my sister and I. We were always forced to pick sides between my parents. Now as an adult when I think back at it I can't help but feel how selfish it was of them to always put us in the middle and never to want to take responsibility for their actions. I think sometimes parents don't realize how much they really can hurt and damage their own kids. It hurts to think about it and I wish things would've been different. When I was much younger I kept dreaming about how I'd want to raise my own kids one day. Today when i think back at those times it dawns on me that I'm at that age now and how I most likely never will have my own kids. And that hurts too. I always took it for granted that some day I'll have my own family and now I realize that it's not such a given thing either. All those things that I dreamt about giving my kids and the things I wanted to do with them. Showing them things and teaching them about being good human beings and helping others. Seeing them do good things and being good to their own peers and the community at large. Growing up to become successful people. And happy. Yea I did have those dreams one day. But that day was a very long time ago I realize now. Today I have finally arrived at that age where most of those things should've happened by now, but they haven't and most likely never will. Now I tell myself that if I ever had have them I'd tell them never to expect anything from life. I'd say to them to live each day like there won't be a tomorrow but still always strive to be your best in your achievements and toward others. I'd encourage them to travel and see the world while still young, happy and healthy. Make good memories and do all the positive things that you've always wanted to do. Live so you won't have regrets and love as much as you can. Even if you'd have to take the chance of getting hurt in the process. I'd also hug them and kiss them every day and tell them how much I love them and how smart and beautiful they are and that they can accomplish what ever that they'd set their minds to. I wouldn't expect anything of them other than being good and positive people and let them find their own ways in life.
Wednesday, February 8, 2017
My Dreams
Have you ever woken up in the morning to realize that experience that you just had that was so awesome, heartwarming, and sweet was just a dream? This happens to me pretty often. And when i see the sunlight through the blinds of my window I just close my eyes again wishing to go back to that same place that I was just a few moments ago surrounded by love and happiness. Some of my dreams are about my family being under one roof again all of us together and happy, and some other of my dreams are about finding my second half. In my dreams I'm able to levitate or "fly" by flapping my legs back and forth as if swimming, and the more I do that the higher I go and become invisible to everyone else on the ground. I also feel extreme joy, comfort, warmth, and happiness in the way that I haven't felt since probably my childhood. In those dreams I'm safe, cared for, loved, undiscriminated against, equal, and happy. I'm surrounded by loved ones and those who love me with sincerity and genuinely, no questions asked. By writing I was hoping to somehow be able to recreate those sensations that I feel in those dreams; to somehow make them come alive once again. But to no avail. One night I dreamt of my grandmother (mom's mom) being alive and coming to a family gathering with my mom. I was so relieved to see her there! I kept thinking to myself it must've been a very bad nightmare that I had about loosing her. I kept hugging and kissing her and she was a little surprised over my overexcitement of seeing her. In a different dream I found myself in her apartment when we were younger and standing in her living room as it was getting dark out and feeling the emptiness of her presence. I'd say that was an eerie feeling. That dream was dark and filled with emptiness. I remember in that dream walking out on my grandmother's balcony trying to locate our house as we used to do since she lived so close to us, and somehow being able to see inside our house and how everything was in boxes ready to be moved. Somehow my grandmother was there and she wasn't. Maybe like a ghost. I'd go into her kitchen in her apartment expecting to see her sitting by the kitchen table as she used to do starring out the window. But instead I'd find the kitchen overcrowded with stuff with barely any space left to come in but there was no one in the kitchen. It looked though as if someone had left in haste. Food was out of the fridge and scattered on the table and on the counters and I was constantly expecting a phone call with my grandmother on the other end of the line telling me that she was on her way. I'd open her front door and look out the stairwell hoping to see her climbing up the stairs, but instead it was dead silence and empty. In that particular dream I remember how I was so overwhelmed with a deep sorrow and longing for something that i knew never would come again. This feeling of mine was even accentuated more by the darkness outside. I remember I kept wanting to turn a light on to make the darkness disappear but this seemed impossible. No matter how many lights I turned on it was as though none of them were bright enough to lit up the space.
Friday, December 16, 2016
The Bigger Picture
I really want to know what it must be like to be one of those big old sequoia trees that have lived for a few hundred or even a thousand years. I wonder what it must've been like to keep on living when everything else around you dies and new life is made. How do trees experience the world even? Have you thought of that? Do they sense the world around them in any way? And if so, how? They help filter the air, and they do get effected by the pollution. Do they ever "feel" the way we humans feel or anything remotely close to it? Do they have conscience, or some level of awareness of their surroundings? I bet if they did they'd be wondering what are those short sticks that can move around? And are they the ones responsible for such a huge increase in air pollution?
I don't know though if I'd really want to be around for as long as some of those trees have or can live. It seems to me like this world is moving faster and faster toward total self destruction - with our full help of course. It's actually painful and extremely difficult to watch this happen, and to see humans and animals alike suffer. I have to admit that I feel extremely guilty every time these ads run on TV about helping those in need in some third world country that's either been torn apart by wars or by the hunger and sickness that's been caused by greed for what ever it is that one can be greedy about - money, power, status. I feel extremely uncomfortable and very self conscious sitting there in my living room and watching these ads instead of running outside to yell at the bullies who are causing all these troubles. If only it was that simple!
I was thinking about all this the other day and I started thinking about something that I've actually thought about many times before. There may be others out there who also think this idea may be a possibility. I think when we are born we come to this world with a certain wisdom that slowly diminishes over time if our parents don't nurture and encourage it with their own actions and decisions that they make. The problem though is that when we're an infant our brain hasn't developed enough to process our thoughts, and we just can't express it or form those thoughts in any communicable way. I really don't think babies are blank slates. I think even babies may have some form of awareness of some very fundamental things about coexistence. I know this probably sounds totally crazy, but I actually do remember when I was in my mom's womb. I actually could remember this much clearer when I was much younger, but I can still recall the feeling that I think may be the memory of me as a fetus. I know that there will be those who might read this and say: "All the more reasons why abortion should be banned if this really is possible!" To those I'd have to say, with all due respect it's not so easy and clean cut as you may think it is for the mother who has to make that difficult decision. But that's really a totally different topic than what I wanted to talk about here right now. My point here is: how come it is so obvious for very young children (or most of them) that in an argument or fight it's best to walk away, yet this concept becomes so difficult to implement for grown-ups, especially in a larger scale? I understand that most of today's conflicts are about money - and power. But we're also grown-ups now at this point, and we're supposed to know better, right? Didn't our parents teach us when we came home crying from a fight or argument at school or in the playground that the right thing to do is to forgive and walk away from a conflict? I know my parents did. My mom and dad used to always tell us that it's best to walk away if we see someone is trying to cause trouble. And to speak up if someone is taking someone else's belongings without permission. I know I've read the same questions asked by other writers in other magazines, books, or online. So if these are such obvious things to do then how come as adults we then justify cheating, stealing, bullying, and even waging wars against others and totally be ok with it? We even get others to back us up when what really should happen is for those others telling the instigators to back off. We knew as children that things were not worth fighting over. So what changed? Isn't money only paper that we humans have put value on? And how does money compare to a human life? How much money would one human life be worth? And would that human life value fluctuate in different regions of the world? What would be the standardizing tool to equate a human life to something like money? And why don't world leaders instead of fighting over resources instead say: Ok we know that this world has this set size that won't ever expand. Let's calculate a healthy capacity for resources for each country and also calculate the size of the population that these set of resources can support. After that, let's all agree on ground rules for each nation and agree to abide by them to maintain the population. Then the next step would be to think of options such as contraceptives to help the people follow and abide by those rules. Then the step after that would be to come up with a way to make the options affordable for all regardless of who they are and what they do for a living. Then when all this is planned out each country can focus on its finances and how to make living expenses balanced and reasonable for the vast majority of the population, if not all. As a result of the balanced economics, finances could be reasonably distributed to education and literacy would rise worldwide, affordable healthcare could be provided to all, crime and poverty would decrease, and there would even be the possibility for intellectual growth, and who knows how far mankind could reach out in time and space. This may sound a little utopian, but I really don't think it's impossible. If we only could teach more awareness and how to look out for one another, more rigorously than ever before, and also to emphasize how the future of this world depend on it. I think if we strived to achieve a more balanced world with farer distribution of its resources among all we'd be able to have more harmony and peace in this world. After all, isn't that what we all want? There's a word in Swedish called Medmänsklighet, which if translated straight would mean With Humanity. We need to teach more of that to our children as well as learn to practice it more ourselves. I think this issue also leads to the next topic that I've been thinking a lot about; and that is selfishness.
I have had big doubts and serious questions about the existence of God, as I'm sure many, many others have or have in their lifetime. Well, I should say, one big reason I do believe there must be a Higher Power out there is because of the existence of this vast Universe. But what I have a harder time with is how we can believe that even if God exists that he necessarily is there to answer prayers? I am going to say though that when I was battling for my own life with cancer, I too did pray for my wellness and even begged and reasoned to be heard. Here's where my doubt rises though. As small and tiny as we are, pretty much like a speck of dust in this whole Universe, how do we assume that our specific prayers will be heard in all the noise that must be out there? We are equivalent to the size of an electron or maybe even less in the full picture, and there surely are other forms of life out there way beyond our reach and imagination. Yet WE expect God to hear OUR pleas for help and mercy from what ever evil that is plaguing us. And how is that some of us have their prayers "heard" and some of us don't? There have been by far way too many evil people and leaders in the history of this world some of which have suffered from serious illnesses and recovered despite the odds and despite all the cruelty and evil that they have inflicted on others during their lifetime. So how is it that God came to their aid or heard their prayers? And what about the prayers of those being tortured and slaughtered by or at the command of that same individual? How come they're almost never heard? Or the innocent starving children in some African country who don't know anything other than starvation? Stars collide and are born and destroyed along with whatever else that existed on or inside of them. Stars that consist of billions and millions of other planets and other possible life forms. I'm not trying to make people feel insignificant, but to believe that we are so important or big that God hears us over SO many other things and creatures out there is rather self centered and arrogant from my point of view. And by the way, who said selflessness isn't productive or serves us well? By being and teaching selflessness we then create an environment where others around us learn to practice the same, and this therefore will lead to a society who looks after one another rather than each individual being on their own. Actually, this collective lookout of one another can go an even longer way. It may very likely reduce or even eliminate hunger and poverty, shelterlessness, loneliness and even decrease mental and physical illnesses among the masses. I know there are those who may read this and think I'm naive or live in a fantasy world. To them I say we ourselves are the decisive power behind those possibilities. For instance, only when we decide to learn about a certain family or town in some remote and troubled part of the world, and really get to know their day by day struggles and living crisis, and at the same time look at the bigger picture to see and understand what really got them in that disposition, and then to reflect back at our own life and try to imagine what we would've done if we had been in their shoes, and what we would've hoped other people from other parts of the world would do to help us and to relieve our pain, it's only then that we can begin to make the changes necessary. This of course would require a lot of self assessment and self questioning, which I believe can be taught at a very young age. If we religiously began to teach compassion to our kids from a very early age, then maybe many more people would learn to practice empathy. Maybe, maybe not. But at this point in time I'd say any attempt to improve the living conditions for ALL mankind is better than how we are doing at the moment. I do believe, like so many others, that the growing social gaps within and between countries is the biggest problem that we face. If we just learn, like the kids that we used to be, to share, to tolerate, to practice more acceptance, be more understanding, and feel more for one another I think we would be able to eliminate many, many of our large scale world community problems as well as smaller scale neighborhood and town issues. We all need to be more accepting and begin each day with an open mind and willingness to cooperate. We also need to do away with the mentality of enemy and friend, and instead ask ourselves and dig deeper to see what the underlining reasons for the behavior of certain groups of people are. This of course requires a bigger knowledge of history and geography and so much more. What if we are at a point in time where we would have to reevaluate what and how we educate our kids - both at home and in school. Maybe some of the curriculums at school have become outdated and certain subjects need to be updated and upgraded so that it'll be more interactive and educational. Maybe instead of setting money making as a priority we need to instead be asking ourselves what kind of world do we want our kids and future generations to live in whether or not we as individuals ever pursue a family life of our own. We must realize this is so much bigger than just us now. And that the future of mankind could litterally depend on us. I guess the big secret is how to engage people and how to energize them to be willing to analyze one another's views and be willing to take action in the direction needed to make the necessary changes required. And I guess this is what many leaders in time have and are trying to do. But I don't think this would necessarily require A leader. I think we can accomplish this by sitting at a round table and each give our own input on how and what needs to be changed. Take and build on each other's ideas and move forward. We need to realize that this is so big that it will have to be a work in progress, and therefore we must be brave enough to call out a mistake and have enough faith in one another that speaking up does not lead to prosecutions and punishments. It is almost like keeping guard at night and resisting sleep to keep wild animals at bay. In order to be successful in doing that we may need to rely on each other to keep us awake and alert. This is like collectively carrying a huge basin filled to the top with water and having to move in such synchrony with one another so that not a drop of the water is spilled.
I don't know though if I'd really want to be around for as long as some of those trees have or can live. It seems to me like this world is moving faster and faster toward total self destruction - with our full help of course. It's actually painful and extremely difficult to watch this happen, and to see humans and animals alike suffer. I have to admit that I feel extremely guilty every time these ads run on TV about helping those in need in some third world country that's either been torn apart by wars or by the hunger and sickness that's been caused by greed for what ever it is that one can be greedy about - money, power, status. I feel extremely uncomfortable and very self conscious sitting there in my living room and watching these ads instead of running outside to yell at the bullies who are causing all these troubles. If only it was that simple!
I was thinking about all this the other day and I started thinking about something that I've actually thought about many times before. There may be others out there who also think this idea may be a possibility. I think when we are born we come to this world with a certain wisdom that slowly diminishes over time if our parents don't nurture and encourage it with their own actions and decisions that they make. The problem though is that when we're an infant our brain hasn't developed enough to process our thoughts, and we just can't express it or form those thoughts in any communicable way. I really don't think babies are blank slates. I think even babies may have some form of awareness of some very fundamental things about coexistence. I know this probably sounds totally crazy, but I actually do remember when I was in my mom's womb. I actually could remember this much clearer when I was much younger, but I can still recall the feeling that I think may be the memory of me as a fetus. I know that there will be those who might read this and say: "All the more reasons why abortion should be banned if this really is possible!" To those I'd have to say, with all due respect it's not so easy and clean cut as you may think it is for the mother who has to make that difficult decision. But that's really a totally different topic than what I wanted to talk about here right now. My point here is: how come it is so obvious for very young children (or most of them) that in an argument or fight it's best to walk away, yet this concept becomes so difficult to implement for grown-ups, especially in a larger scale? I understand that most of today's conflicts are about money - and power. But we're also grown-ups now at this point, and we're supposed to know better, right? Didn't our parents teach us when we came home crying from a fight or argument at school or in the playground that the right thing to do is to forgive and walk away from a conflict? I know my parents did. My mom and dad used to always tell us that it's best to walk away if we see someone is trying to cause trouble. And to speak up if someone is taking someone else's belongings without permission. I know I've read the same questions asked by other writers in other magazines, books, or online. So if these are such obvious things to do then how come as adults we then justify cheating, stealing, bullying, and even waging wars against others and totally be ok with it? We even get others to back us up when what really should happen is for those others telling the instigators to back off. We knew as children that things were not worth fighting over. So what changed? Isn't money only paper that we humans have put value on? And how does money compare to a human life? How much money would one human life be worth? And would that human life value fluctuate in different regions of the world? What would be the standardizing tool to equate a human life to something like money? And why don't world leaders instead of fighting over resources instead say: Ok we know that this world has this set size that won't ever expand. Let's calculate a healthy capacity for resources for each country and also calculate the size of the population that these set of resources can support. After that, let's all agree on ground rules for each nation and agree to abide by them to maintain the population. Then the next step would be to think of options such as contraceptives to help the people follow and abide by those rules. Then the step after that would be to come up with a way to make the options affordable for all regardless of who they are and what they do for a living. Then when all this is planned out each country can focus on its finances and how to make living expenses balanced and reasonable for the vast majority of the population, if not all. As a result of the balanced economics, finances could be reasonably distributed to education and literacy would rise worldwide, affordable healthcare could be provided to all, crime and poverty would decrease, and there would even be the possibility for intellectual growth, and who knows how far mankind could reach out in time and space. This may sound a little utopian, but I really don't think it's impossible. If we only could teach more awareness and how to look out for one another, more rigorously than ever before, and also to emphasize how the future of this world depend on it. I think if we strived to achieve a more balanced world with farer distribution of its resources among all we'd be able to have more harmony and peace in this world. After all, isn't that what we all want? There's a word in Swedish called Medmänsklighet, which if translated straight would mean With Humanity. We need to teach more of that to our children as well as learn to practice it more ourselves. I think this issue also leads to the next topic that I've been thinking a lot about; and that is selfishness.
I have had big doubts and serious questions about the existence of God, as I'm sure many, many others have or have in their lifetime. Well, I should say, one big reason I do believe there must be a Higher Power out there is because of the existence of this vast Universe. But what I have a harder time with is how we can believe that even if God exists that he necessarily is there to answer prayers? I am going to say though that when I was battling for my own life with cancer, I too did pray for my wellness and even begged and reasoned to be heard. Here's where my doubt rises though. As small and tiny as we are, pretty much like a speck of dust in this whole Universe, how do we assume that our specific prayers will be heard in all the noise that must be out there? We are equivalent to the size of an electron or maybe even less in the full picture, and there surely are other forms of life out there way beyond our reach and imagination. Yet WE expect God to hear OUR pleas for help and mercy from what ever evil that is plaguing us. And how is that some of us have their prayers "heard" and some of us don't? There have been by far way too many evil people and leaders in the history of this world some of which have suffered from serious illnesses and recovered despite the odds and despite all the cruelty and evil that they have inflicted on others during their lifetime. So how is it that God came to their aid or heard their prayers? And what about the prayers of those being tortured and slaughtered by or at the command of that same individual? How come they're almost never heard? Or the innocent starving children in some African country who don't know anything other than starvation? Stars collide and are born and destroyed along with whatever else that existed on or inside of them. Stars that consist of billions and millions of other planets and other possible life forms. I'm not trying to make people feel insignificant, but to believe that we are so important or big that God hears us over SO many other things and creatures out there is rather self centered and arrogant from my point of view. And by the way, who said selflessness isn't productive or serves us well? By being and teaching selflessness we then create an environment where others around us learn to practice the same, and this therefore will lead to a society who looks after one another rather than each individual being on their own. Actually, this collective lookout of one another can go an even longer way. It may very likely reduce or even eliminate hunger and poverty, shelterlessness, loneliness and even decrease mental and physical illnesses among the masses. I know there are those who may read this and think I'm naive or live in a fantasy world. To them I say we ourselves are the decisive power behind those possibilities. For instance, only when we decide to learn about a certain family or town in some remote and troubled part of the world, and really get to know their day by day struggles and living crisis, and at the same time look at the bigger picture to see and understand what really got them in that disposition, and then to reflect back at our own life and try to imagine what we would've done if we had been in their shoes, and what we would've hoped other people from other parts of the world would do to help us and to relieve our pain, it's only then that we can begin to make the changes necessary. This of course would require a lot of self assessment and self questioning, which I believe can be taught at a very young age. If we religiously began to teach compassion to our kids from a very early age, then maybe many more people would learn to practice empathy. Maybe, maybe not. But at this point in time I'd say any attempt to improve the living conditions for ALL mankind is better than how we are doing at the moment. I do believe, like so many others, that the growing social gaps within and between countries is the biggest problem that we face. If we just learn, like the kids that we used to be, to share, to tolerate, to practice more acceptance, be more understanding, and feel more for one another I think we would be able to eliminate many, many of our large scale world community problems as well as smaller scale neighborhood and town issues. We all need to be more accepting and begin each day with an open mind and willingness to cooperate. We also need to do away with the mentality of enemy and friend, and instead ask ourselves and dig deeper to see what the underlining reasons for the behavior of certain groups of people are. This of course requires a bigger knowledge of history and geography and so much more. What if we are at a point in time where we would have to reevaluate what and how we educate our kids - both at home and in school. Maybe some of the curriculums at school have become outdated and certain subjects need to be updated and upgraded so that it'll be more interactive and educational. Maybe instead of setting money making as a priority we need to instead be asking ourselves what kind of world do we want our kids and future generations to live in whether or not we as individuals ever pursue a family life of our own. We must realize this is so much bigger than just us now. And that the future of mankind could litterally depend on us. I guess the big secret is how to engage people and how to energize them to be willing to analyze one another's views and be willing to take action in the direction needed to make the necessary changes required. And I guess this is what many leaders in time have and are trying to do. But I don't think this would necessarily require A leader. I think we can accomplish this by sitting at a round table and each give our own input on how and what needs to be changed. Take and build on each other's ideas and move forward. We need to realize that this is so big that it will have to be a work in progress, and therefore we must be brave enough to call out a mistake and have enough faith in one another that speaking up does not lead to prosecutions and punishments. It is almost like keeping guard at night and resisting sleep to keep wild animals at bay. In order to be successful in doing that we may need to rely on each other to keep us awake and alert. This is like collectively carrying a huge basin filled to the top with water and having to move in such synchrony with one another so that not a drop of the water is spilled.
Monday, December 12, 2016
A Strange Mind And Remembering My Grandmother
Something really strange and hard to explain happened to me years ago. This is when I recently had started chemo for the second cancer I'd been diagnosed with. I felt that certain songs or type of music that I'd heard and/or liked in my childhood would take me back to a time way before when I was born. I know that people may read this and think to themselves that I'm talking about being a clairvoyance or something in that line. But that's not what I mean. It would be more like I would remember feelings of a place in time much older than myself. It'd be as though I could feel my parents' past experiences and joys. Every time I'd feel this way though I always felt isolated in those feelings and thoughts because I didn't know how to explain it to my family. And speaking had become such a challenge for me anyway that every time I thought about saying something I had to thoroughly think about to decide whether it was really necessary to say or not. Speaking had become equivalent to running marathons for me with no exageration. So the challenge of speaking on one hand, the fatigue and physical pain that I felt from chemo on the other hand had all combined and taken its toll on my vocal cords. It was almost impossible to hear or understand me if you didn't really try. As a result, I became very quiet and turned inward. There were many strange things that happened during treatment that year. But this particular sensation of experiencing the joy (and strange sadness) of a time that I not even was alive I feel brought me closer to my mom, dad and relatives on both their sides. I somehow felt the physical distance between myself and my childhood world even stronger and I truly missed all the loved ones that we had left behind. A song could easily bring me to tears. I couldn't help remembering our home in Iran; the many fun gatherings and celebrations of different occasions and my mom's beautiful and delicious foods and colorful dishes; the many friends and playmates; I'd see in my mind's eye the crowded streets of Tehran and how my mom would take us to the busy bazaar what felt like half across the world from where we lived - on foot. We'd spend hours and hours walking the busy and crowded streets of Tehran. When we'd get tired and start whining my mom would stop by a baghali, which is like a street corner deli, to buy us a pirashki, which is equivalent to donuts here but a million times more delicious.
But the memories that would pop up with those old songs from Mahasti, Hayedeh, Googoosh and so many others that I don't know/remember the names of, were still different from those of my own childhood. I always felt like I felt and remembered through a much older individual than myself. Those songs always brought a sense of nostalgia that someone my age would hardly have considering the few years that I was in Iran and my young age when we left. For instance, whenever I'd listen to ABBA, who happen to be a big favorite of mine, I'd remember one of my dad's female cousins who had sadly passed away recently from a heart attack. I would feel how much she loved her husband and three girls, and I'd remember her sweet and heartwarming laughters. It was weird. I'd sit and cry to ABBA songs and feel as though I was remembering her life by herself and not just me. I know how strange and crazy this sounds. But I always have been wanting to tell this to someone and maybe even hopefully find an explanation for it.
My mom's mom passed away in the middle of my chemo therapy. But she was in Iran. She suffered from hernia for many many years, and she even had to have operations for it a few times. My mom was trying to convince her to come to the States and stay with us, but mom hadn't told her that I was sick again. She thought she'd be so shocked that she might get sick from the news. My grandma finally agreed to come, but she insisted on having a last surgery to improve the problems that she had with her hernia. However, this surgery happened to cause infection in her body which lead to her death. For three weeks we spent days and nights in lingo and uncertainty about her health. My mom was stock between staying and taking care of me or take a chance and going to Iran to take care of her mom and risk losing me. It was a living nightmare for all of us. We knew that if my mom wouldn't go there was a certainty that we'd loose my grandma. Every night when she'd come home from work all tired and exhausted, my mom would lay on the coach in front of the TV completely silent. But her silence spoke loudly of how she felt inside. And it ripped my heart out of my chest to watch her. At the same time I also felt what my grandma must be going through in her hospital bed. Those who went and saw her say that she was conscience the whole time and her mind was sharp to the very end but she couldn't speak because she was intubated. I miss her dearly still and dream of her a lot. So for three weeks my mom spent the time she was home and free from taking care of me calling the hospital in Iran to get updates on how my grandma was doing and they even let her talk to her even though my grandma couldn't respond. It was brutal to witness and I kept imagining what my grandma must've thought and felt during that whole time. My mom would walk around like a zombie on timer getting up for work in the morning and coming home in the evening with the same look on her face. We can only feel our own pain, and I am here to tell that I haven't felt so much pain on behalf of my parents as I did during those three weeks. I kept wishing for wings to fly in an instant to Iran and pick up and carry my grandma back to us so we could nurse her and take proper care of her till she got better again. At night, I lay awake praying for her and begging God to heal her and give us another chance to see her again. But to no avail. When the news finally came that my grandma had passed I had a very strange feeling. I was extremely sad but I couldn't feel my face or the rest of my body. I kept thinking this is just a nightmare and I'm going to wake up soon and walk downstairs to see my parents sit in our kitchen and eating dinner. But instead I felt worse and worse and as though I had been turned upside down hanging in mid air. I remember I started trembling so much that my mom noticed and had to control her emotions to not upset me any more than I already was. During that time my sister had begun college and we tried to not tell her everything because she was also going through some hard time with school and her own emotions over everything. So when she called a short wile later to get updates on our grandma my mom spoke to her in a very controlled and calm manner and told her what had happened. I don't really remember much of the rest of that time. I imagine my sister must've come home to be with us, and I think she did even though it was kind of late and my mom insisted on her staying in her dorm. We adored our grandma! She was the life of every party and gathering with her cheerful manner and laughter that would light up even the night. And when she laughed her face would turn dark red and her tears would start flowing. She loved to dance, sing, play music (she'd make almost any kitchen ware into an instrument! And she was great at playing domback on the back of a cooking pot or on the edge of the table), play cards with us, help my parents gardening, sow (she was a very skilled seamstress), cook amazing food and so much more. She was a woman way ahead of her time! She was extremely sharp and smart. She taught herself to write and read. She was always practicing on any scrap paper that she could get her hands on. When we were still in Iran and much younger she would watch us when my mom would go to work and when it became nap time she would lay down with us and tell us beautiful fairy tales of mermaids and princes who would marry in the depth of the ocean and live happily ever after. Her imagination was bottomless! And she would tell us beautiful tales! I would never get tired of listening to her fairy tales and she would always end up falling asleep along with the rest as I'd lay wide awake and waiting for an opportunity to sneak away from under her arm. It would be hard, but I'd still always manage. And now all of that energy was all gone! The word devastation couldn't do how we felt that night any justice. My grandma was life itself. She was always so full of energy and had such a spark for life. She would make us laugh, tell us tales, play games with us, teach us how to knit. She even was the initial person who made my mom take me to the doctor to have those large and strange nodules on my neck checked. That's actually how we found out that I had cancer the first time. Words can't begin to explain just how much we miss her still even after all these years. I'll never forget that very last day when we said goodbye to her in Sweden before we came to the States. Her face as very pale and her beautiful eyes were extremely sad. It was as though she knew that she'd never see us again.. If only we had an inkling of that too! I would've held her longer and kissed her more and breathed in her sweet scent harder and etched it in my memory to cary with me for the rest of my life. I do realize that my aunts may become very upset by reading this story. But this has also burned and weighted heavy on my mind for many years now waiting to be told. I think by writing about my grandma here I help cary her memory alive and hopefully my other cousins who didn't get to know her the way I did may read this and learn a little more about her through this story. Our grandma was a force of nature! In many ways my mom is just like her. And this can be both good and bad (: But that's a story for another day (:
But the memories that would pop up with those old songs from Mahasti, Hayedeh, Googoosh and so many others that I don't know/remember the names of, were still different from those of my own childhood. I always felt like I felt and remembered through a much older individual than myself. Those songs always brought a sense of nostalgia that someone my age would hardly have considering the few years that I was in Iran and my young age when we left. For instance, whenever I'd listen to ABBA, who happen to be a big favorite of mine, I'd remember one of my dad's female cousins who had sadly passed away recently from a heart attack. I would feel how much she loved her husband and three girls, and I'd remember her sweet and heartwarming laughters. It was weird. I'd sit and cry to ABBA songs and feel as though I was remembering her life by herself and not just me. I know how strange and crazy this sounds. But I always have been wanting to tell this to someone and maybe even hopefully find an explanation for it.
My mom's mom passed away in the middle of my chemo therapy. But she was in Iran. She suffered from hernia for many many years, and she even had to have operations for it a few times. My mom was trying to convince her to come to the States and stay with us, but mom hadn't told her that I was sick again. She thought she'd be so shocked that she might get sick from the news. My grandma finally agreed to come, but she insisted on having a last surgery to improve the problems that she had with her hernia. However, this surgery happened to cause infection in her body which lead to her death. For three weeks we spent days and nights in lingo and uncertainty about her health. My mom was stock between staying and taking care of me or take a chance and going to Iran to take care of her mom and risk losing me. It was a living nightmare for all of us. We knew that if my mom wouldn't go there was a certainty that we'd loose my grandma. Every night when she'd come home from work all tired and exhausted, my mom would lay on the coach in front of the TV completely silent. But her silence spoke loudly of how she felt inside. And it ripped my heart out of my chest to watch her. At the same time I also felt what my grandma must be going through in her hospital bed. Those who went and saw her say that she was conscience the whole time and her mind was sharp to the very end but she couldn't speak because she was intubated. I miss her dearly still and dream of her a lot. So for three weeks my mom spent the time she was home and free from taking care of me calling the hospital in Iran to get updates on how my grandma was doing and they even let her talk to her even though my grandma couldn't respond. It was brutal to witness and I kept imagining what my grandma must've thought and felt during that whole time. My mom would walk around like a zombie on timer getting up for work in the morning and coming home in the evening with the same look on her face. We can only feel our own pain, and I am here to tell that I haven't felt so much pain on behalf of my parents as I did during those three weeks. I kept wishing for wings to fly in an instant to Iran and pick up and carry my grandma back to us so we could nurse her and take proper care of her till she got better again. At night, I lay awake praying for her and begging God to heal her and give us another chance to see her again. But to no avail. When the news finally came that my grandma had passed I had a very strange feeling. I was extremely sad but I couldn't feel my face or the rest of my body. I kept thinking this is just a nightmare and I'm going to wake up soon and walk downstairs to see my parents sit in our kitchen and eating dinner. But instead I felt worse and worse and as though I had been turned upside down hanging in mid air. I remember I started trembling so much that my mom noticed and had to control her emotions to not upset me any more than I already was. During that time my sister had begun college and we tried to not tell her everything because she was also going through some hard time with school and her own emotions over everything. So when she called a short wile later to get updates on our grandma my mom spoke to her in a very controlled and calm manner and told her what had happened. I don't really remember much of the rest of that time. I imagine my sister must've come home to be with us, and I think she did even though it was kind of late and my mom insisted on her staying in her dorm. We adored our grandma! She was the life of every party and gathering with her cheerful manner and laughter that would light up even the night. And when she laughed her face would turn dark red and her tears would start flowing. She loved to dance, sing, play music (she'd make almost any kitchen ware into an instrument! And she was great at playing domback on the back of a cooking pot or on the edge of the table), play cards with us, help my parents gardening, sow (she was a very skilled seamstress), cook amazing food and so much more. She was a woman way ahead of her time! She was extremely sharp and smart. She taught herself to write and read. She was always practicing on any scrap paper that she could get her hands on. When we were still in Iran and much younger she would watch us when my mom would go to work and when it became nap time she would lay down with us and tell us beautiful fairy tales of mermaids and princes who would marry in the depth of the ocean and live happily ever after. Her imagination was bottomless! And she would tell us beautiful tales! I would never get tired of listening to her fairy tales and she would always end up falling asleep along with the rest as I'd lay wide awake and waiting for an opportunity to sneak away from under her arm. It would be hard, but I'd still always manage. And now all of that energy was all gone! The word devastation couldn't do how we felt that night any justice. My grandma was life itself. She was always so full of energy and had such a spark for life. She would make us laugh, tell us tales, play games with us, teach us how to knit. She even was the initial person who made my mom take me to the doctor to have those large and strange nodules on my neck checked. That's actually how we found out that I had cancer the first time. Words can't begin to explain just how much we miss her still even after all these years. I'll never forget that very last day when we said goodbye to her in Sweden before we came to the States. Her face as very pale and her beautiful eyes were extremely sad. It was as though she knew that she'd never see us again.. If only we had an inkling of that too! I would've held her longer and kissed her more and breathed in her sweet scent harder and etched it in my memory to cary with me for the rest of my life. I do realize that my aunts may become very upset by reading this story. But this has also burned and weighted heavy on my mind for many years now waiting to be told. I think by writing about my grandma here I help cary her memory alive and hopefully my other cousins who didn't get to know her the way I did may read this and learn a little more about her through this story. Our grandma was a force of nature! In many ways my mom is just like her. And this can be both good and bad (: But that's a story for another day (:
Intro
Have you ever found yourself standing somewhere that's either crowded or those around are in such hysteria and disorder that you feel you're drowning in all the noise? People are talking and shouting at you but in your head you only hear the wind blowing, and whatever the scene in front of you may be, all you see is a picture in your mind's eye of the sun setting over the ocean as you're standing there and watching it? Well, I've had many similar experiences. There's been so many different scenarios for me that I imagine it would take a full day to write about every single one here. But one that sticks out I must say is my mother's face in full panic shouting at me for directions to do something but I can't remember what it is. All I can remember is that she's very scared and the look on her face that makes me want to close my eyes and pretend I'm standing by the ocean and I'm watching the sun set peacefully in the horizon as the seagulls fly high in the sky. I always see myself as a little girl in those imaginary moments for some reason; sad and lonely. I don't know why. Because, as I recall, I was a pretty happy and rambunctious child.
So this happened again recently, but I can't remember what the reason/cause/situation was.
Maybe it's best that I introduce myself before I go any further. I'm a 39 year old female; I'm a two time cancer survivor who considers herself an uprooted tree who has been transplanted land and oceans away from her original home soil. It seems like unfortunately these days we see more and more people who would identify themselves similarly: as an uprooted tree half a world away from where they were meant to be. We left Iran a few decades back when Khomeini still was alive and the nightmare that was the Iran - Iraq war was still playing out and devastating both countries. I was very young but old enough to remember the horrors although thankfully back then I was still too young to make sense of much that was happening around me. Today, looking back at all that as an adult, I try to put myself in my parents' shoes but it's hard to imagine how they must've felt and thought. They would've been about my current age with two small children and a world that was falling apart constantly around them with no end in sight. It's impossible to even imagine the sheer horror that they must've felt not only for their own safety but also that of their young children. With the beginning of the revolution people started fleeing the country. The vague memories that I have from my early childhood is how more and more relatives started leaving the country either secretly or with very short notice and in a haste. I remember how strange it felt to watch grown-ups sit up till very late hours at night chain smoking and trying to come up with a sensible plan that wouldn't feel so outrageous to them. But looking back now I think every second of those unpredictable days were outrageous and unimaginable to most if not all Iranians. Even today I wonder how can a country be turned completely upside down in short period of time? It seems so impossible to me and like a fairy tale. But then I remind myself of Iraq and how that small country was torn apart in a matter of a few weeks. Yet what happened to Iran in the late 70's and early 80's was nothing compared to what happened to Iraq in the 2003.
I've wondered to myself why is it so important to people to be in their homeland? What is it about the homeland that is so important to humans? I'll try to come back to this later, but first let me tell you about my own experience. So once things started to get really out of hand my mom decided that it was time to leave and our destination would be no other place than Sweden. My mom's reasons for that was that it had been a neutral country for over 200 years and it was a remote enough country that no conflict could ever possibly reach its borders. The decision of our migration was made in only an hour. It was hectic and filled with many emotions and no time to process them all. I remember I was told to pack a suitcase with only necessities and I had no idea where to begin. So I packed all my stuffed animals, puzzles, and all other toys and dolls that I just couldn't imagine being able to part with and felt proud and excited that I managed to do all that by myself. When I announced to my parents that I was packed and ready they came into my sister's and my shared bedroom to assess the necessities. I remember how devastated I felt when every single toy, doll and stuffed animal was taken out of that suitcase as my dad turned to me and repeated necessities only. I still remember the sadness and anger that I felt when I found out that none of my beloved toys were coming with us. Just a few months earlier I had my birthday, and I had received more toys, books, puzzles, clothes and dolls and now I had to leave all that behind. My parents kept promising me that it would only be for a short time, that we'd be back home again really soon and I'd be reunited with all my beloved toys again and will get the chance to play with them as much as I wanted to. I reluctantly agreed since this would only be for a short time. Now looking back and from all the conversations that I've heard over the years, I've come to understand that people really believed this was temporary. No one could imagine that this would be drawn out any longer than a year max. Look at us now! Sitting here so far away from Iran 30 years later! I don't think anyone of those who left would have believed it if they'd been told that they may very well never see their homeland along with their loved ones ever again. How incredible! How completely unimaginable now that I think back and try to put myself in those grown-ups' shoes! Who would've thought? But this was certainly not the worst thing that happened to Iran and its people. The real nightmare was unfolding within its borders. Every day we kept hearing of more people getting arrested, imprisoned and executed. People even secretly told each other about the rumors that they'd hear about horrible tortures that their distant friends and relatives had endured while they were taken away t the hands of the guards who backed the regime. Adults tried hard to keep those horrific stories away from the ears of young children. But as horrible as they were, I was still fascinated by them and in my childish mind it still was just a story that grown-ups would tell each other. At a very young age, I had a fascination of horror stories and scary tales, and these were just more tales that would feed my imagination. None of it of course could be real and I couldn't even fathom what reality of this sort meant. To me, nothing could touch my world within the safe walls of our home and my carefree world of friends and games we'd play. To me, nothing could ever penetrate that and everything that was happening all around us was still so remote and distant from my childish world. Thinking back and remembering all that, I now realize what incredible creatures children are! They are so fragile and vulnerable yet so strong and resilient! How can that be? But I guess if kids had been any different than that very few of them could possible survive childhood and all the physical and psychological hurdles that come their way.
One fond memory I have of those days is the dusk in summer time with the sun lighting up a wall in our guest room with the window open and a soft breeze sweeping between my mom's lace curtains as a lonely dove is cooing somewhere nearby. It was customary that my parents along with so many other Iranians would take afternoon naps during the hottest hours of the day. But as stubborn as I was I always managed to somehow sneak away from nap time and instead do other things to pass the time. One of those things was to sit by the window and gaze into the yard of the neighbors across the street as the kids were playing in their big beautiful swimming pool.
The day that we left Iran it never occurred to me that I may never be able to come back again. In fact, those last hours I remember felt very surreal and strange. I hated those hasty goodbyes and to see those tearful and sad faces that would forcefully kiss my cheeks while giving me rushed hugs. I'd been to a few of those farewell trips before seeing other relatives off. And I always wondered when will it be our turn? When can we leave? To me, this was all a big adventure. The seriousness of the situation was a bit much for me to understand at that tender age. All it meant to me was that I was again being forcefully awakened and dressed at some ungodly hour of the day when all I really wanted was to be left alone to sleep. Today, watching movies like September In Shiraz bring back very distant memories that I vaguely remember in disconnected sequences with gaps in between of forgotten parts that I can't recall. But watching that particular movie brought many painful feelings back. Feelings that I had forgotten I'd once felt. Fears that have been deeply borrowed in my memory. Those horrible things did really happen! They're not just a story line played by actors. Those are the dark realities of so many Iranians and I witnessed some of it even though I was too young to understand that depth of the horror of it. Today though, I'm thankful for having been too young to understand it all. And I'm thankful to my parents who had the will and means to remove us from all that darkness and evil. Yet many others including many of my relatives were forced to stay behind because of various circumstances, and every time I think back my heart breaks for every single one of them! I do wonder to myself how my parents live with their decision of leaving their other loved ones behind knowing that those left in Iran will most likely not do well in so many different ways. It is a very bitter pill to have to swallow, but at the same time you have no other choice. It's an extremely painful reality for many!
So this happened again recently, but I can't remember what the reason/cause/situation was.
Maybe it's best that I introduce myself before I go any further. I'm a 39 year old female; I'm a two time cancer survivor who considers herself an uprooted tree who has been transplanted land and oceans away from her original home soil. It seems like unfortunately these days we see more and more people who would identify themselves similarly: as an uprooted tree half a world away from where they were meant to be. We left Iran a few decades back when Khomeini still was alive and the nightmare that was the Iran - Iraq war was still playing out and devastating both countries. I was very young but old enough to remember the horrors although thankfully back then I was still too young to make sense of much that was happening around me. Today, looking back at all that as an adult, I try to put myself in my parents' shoes but it's hard to imagine how they must've felt and thought. They would've been about my current age with two small children and a world that was falling apart constantly around them with no end in sight. It's impossible to even imagine the sheer horror that they must've felt not only for their own safety but also that of their young children. With the beginning of the revolution people started fleeing the country. The vague memories that I have from my early childhood is how more and more relatives started leaving the country either secretly or with very short notice and in a haste. I remember how strange it felt to watch grown-ups sit up till very late hours at night chain smoking and trying to come up with a sensible plan that wouldn't feel so outrageous to them. But looking back now I think every second of those unpredictable days were outrageous and unimaginable to most if not all Iranians. Even today I wonder how can a country be turned completely upside down in short period of time? It seems so impossible to me and like a fairy tale. But then I remind myself of Iraq and how that small country was torn apart in a matter of a few weeks. Yet what happened to Iran in the late 70's and early 80's was nothing compared to what happened to Iraq in the 2003.
I've wondered to myself why is it so important to people to be in their homeland? What is it about the homeland that is so important to humans? I'll try to come back to this later, but first let me tell you about my own experience. So once things started to get really out of hand my mom decided that it was time to leave and our destination would be no other place than Sweden. My mom's reasons for that was that it had been a neutral country for over 200 years and it was a remote enough country that no conflict could ever possibly reach its borders. The decision of our migration was made in only an hour. It was hectic and filled with many emotions and no time to process them all. I remember I was told to pack a suitcase with only necessities and I had no idea where to begin. So I packed all my stuffed animals, puzzles, and all other toys and dolls that I just couldn't imagine being able to part with and felt proud and excited that I managed to do all that by myself. When I announced to my parents that I was packed and ready they came into my sister's and my shared bedroom to assess the necessities. I remember how devastated I felt when every single toy, doll and stuffed animal was taken out of that suitcase as my dad turned to me and repeated necessities only. I still remember the sadness and anger that I felt when I found out that none of my beloved toys were coming with us. Just a few months earlier I had my birthday, and I had received more toys, books, puzzles, clothes and dolls and now I had to leave all that behind. My parents kept promising me that it would only be for a short time, that we'd be back home again really soon and I'd be reunited with all my beloved toys again and will get the chance to play with them as much as I wanted to. I reluctantly agreed since this would only be for a short time. Now looking back and from all the conversations that I've heard over the years, I've come to understand that people really believed this was temporary. No one could imagine that this would be drawn out any longer than a year max. Look at us now! Sitting here so far away from Iran 30 years later! I don't think anyone of those who left would have believed it if they'd been told that they may very well never see their homeland along with their loved ones ever again. How incredible! How completely unimaginable now that I think back and try to put myself in those grown-ups' shoes! Who would've thought? But this was certainly not the worst thing that happened to Iran and its people. The real nightmare was unfolding within its borders. Every day we kept hearing of more people getting arrested, imprisoned and executed. People even secretly told each other about the rumors that they'd hear about horrible tortures that their distant friends and relatives had endured while they were taken away t the hands of the guards who backed the regime. Adults tried hard to keep those horrific stories away from the ears of young children. But as horrible as they were, I was still fascinated by them and in my childish mind it still was just a story that grown-ups would tell each other. At a very young age, I had a fascination of horror stories and scary tales, and these were just more tales that would feed my imagination. None of it of course could be real and I couldn't even fathom what reality of this sort meant. To me, nothing could touch my world within the safe walls of our home and my carefree world of friends and games we'd play. To me, nothing could ever penetrate that and everything that was happening all around us was still so remote and distant from my childish world. Thinking back and remembering all that, I now realize what incredible creatures children are! They are so fragile and vulnerable yet so strong and resilient! How can that be? But I guess if kids had been any different than that very few of them could possible survive childhood and all the physical and psychological hurdles that come their way.
One fond memory I have of those days is the dusk in summer time with the sun lighting up a wall in our guest room with the window open and a soft breeze sweeping between my mom's lace curtains as a lonely dove is cooing somewhere nearby. It was customary that my parents along with so many other Iranians would take afternoon naps during the hottest hours of the day. But as stubborn as I was I always managed to somehow sneak away from nap time and instead do other things to pass the time. One of those things was to sit by the window and gaze into the yard of the neighbors across the street as the kids were playing in their big beautiful swimming pool.
The day that we left Iran it never occurred to me that I may never be able to come back again. In fact, those last hours I remember felt very surreal and strange. I hated those hasty goodbyes and to see those tearful and sad faces that would forcefully kiss my cheeks while giving me rushed hugs. I'd been to a few of those farewell trips before seeing other relatives off. And I always wondered when will it be our turn? When can we leave? To me, this was all a big adventure. The seriousness of the situation was a bit much for me to understand at that tender age. All it meant to me was that I was again being forcefully awakened and dressed at some ungodly hour of the day when all I really wanted was to be left alone to sleep. Today, watching movies like September In Shiraz bring back very distant memories that I vaguely remember in disconnected sequences with gaps in between of forgotten parts that I can't recall. But watching that particular movie brought many painful feelings back. Feelings that I had forgotten I'd once felt. Fears that have been deeply borrowed in my memory. Those horrible things did really happen! They're not just a story line played by actors. Those are the dark realities of so many Iranians and I witnessed some of it even though I was too young to understand that depth of the horror of it. Today though, I'm thankful for having been too young to understand it all. And I'm thankful to my parents who had the will and means to remove us from all that darkness and evil. Yet many others including many of my relatives were forced to stay behind because of various circumstances, and every time I think back my heart breaks for every single one of them! I do wonder to myself how my parents live with their decision of leaving their other loved ones behind knowing that those left in Iran will most likely not do well in so many different ways. It is a very bitter pill to have to swallow, but at the same time you have no other choice. It's an extremely painful reality for many!
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