A Letter to Baba

2015 - Baba sent us a selfie during a business trip in Venice.

(July 2020) A delayed Father's Day Post.

Dear Baba,

I miss you dearly.

You have no idea. I don’t know where you are but I hope you’re doing well. Please give me a sign that you’re doing well. Also where are you? Just wondering...

There isn’t a day I don’t remember you. I bought a ring with “Baba” engraved in it. I was at a flea market in Hollywood with Alejandro, I came across this little boutique stall that performs instant jewelry engravings. The ring serves as a reminder that I should strive to be the best me. For you. It’s been 7 months since you passed away and it's not getting any easier to accept my new reality. Not sure if you’re keeping up with our Earth news but we also have a new normal that we’re adjusting to but also a great revolution. You'll be surprised by the parallels. Especially with the curfews, unruly police, paintings on walls, and mass protests that are almost identical to the revolution you saw. It is just uncanny to witness.

I'm so happy you didn’t have to live through this pandemic. The virus could have complicated our lives so much. And it might have affected you in a way I could not want to imagine or endure. It wouldn’t be fair if you passed away solely due to this virus. Luckily, we did not have to worry about that.

Sometimes ya Baba, I have dinner alone but with you spiritually. They usually end in tears. I miss you so much. Remember that collage of your pictures shaped in the letter “M”? I face it sometimes during Iftar to break fast with you. When I think about my future, I have to remind myself you won’t be there. I think about my wedding and you won’t be there. I think about my first born child, and you won’t be there. I think about Ahmad’s high school graduation and you won’t be there. It is a harsh reality to accept. I had to do it so young. Well, Ahmad had to do it younger. He is doing really well. He is handling your loss so well and with so much courage. He is going to be great. Do not worry. I will make sure he is set for life. And if I die (God forbid), I have life insurance!

You have definitely shaped me to be the man I can be. I can take it from here. You have given me so many lessons to learn. I think one the most defining moments in our lives was during the flight to Dubai (Husam’s wedding). Remember when we were forced to sit in business class because you couldn’t walk at all. The hostess treated us like we never sat in Business Class before… “We will only serve economy meals since you didn’t purchase these seats”. Who the heck cares, lady? Just let us be. Anyways, I digress with my usual temper. I decided to take care of you for the 4 hour flight instead of Mama. She needed a break. She really needed one. She was so happy when she learned that I decided to take care of you. You were very kind to me and didn’t ask for too many requests. Just the usual; head tilts, pillow adjustments, meal assistance, foot placements, hand tweaks, and occasional massages. Once we arrived on Dubai’s tarmac, the hostess who granted us the seats said to me “You are a wonderful son and any parent would be lucky to have you.” And you said “I raised him too!” You always liked being the center of attention, bic boi. I really appreciated that she said that because it’s nice to see someone else’s perspective.

Adjusting to Baba's "new normal" of communication wasn't the smoothest but there were some gems

I try my best to honor your memory. Whether it’s doing a small deed for the poor or helping out a friend in need because I know you would do that. Like I said earlier, I really do not know where you are. But you live through me. I hope you enjoy my lens on life and my journey. I think it will be a great one.

I cry when I think about you. What can I do to help myself ease the pain? As time goes on, I learn how to live with the grief and accept it for what it is. I will never see you again. When I see other families with two healthy parents, I can not help but feel a sprinkle of jealousy. They never know how well they have it until it’s gone.

I am going through an awkward transition from saying “my parents” to just “my mom.” That was something I was not prepared for. It is a constant reminder that I lost you. A little poke to my heart. I have to dance with how I mention “my parents” without the other person sniffing something fishy. Sometimes I just say you passed away some time ago. Subsequently, that usually backfires with their inevitable “when did he past away?” question. So basically I’m screwed in every direction possible. There was also that very short but weird time when people would intentionally not talk about their own fathers in front of me because they thought it would be insensitive. Although their sympathy was appreciated at the time, it was uncomfortable and unnecessary. And then there are those who ask me how you are doing…

Wherever you are Baba, please take care of yourself if that is possible. We are all praying for you. We all miss you. I think I forgot to mention this but... I love you baba. Happy Father's Day, may I be a father like you some day.

Also, one more quick question. Can you subscribe to my blog?

Talk to you soon,

Hatim