Thanksgiving Day - Celebrating Hamid

I was excited to celebrate Hamid on Thanksgiving Day. I looked forward to it knowing that me, Ariyana and Afshin were making special time for his memories, his life, his love. After breakfast, Ariyana and I sat down and wrote a note to Hamid. I wrote him a brief message and then asked Ariyana what she wanted me to write to Baba, "I love you so much" was her reply. I added that to the note and then she drew on it. Mom picked up a purple balloon for us - Ariyana told us that purple was her favorite color so I knew that would be best for Hamid.

Prudence and Armoni were visiting so they joined us. I thought we would go to the beach - I have to admit I was a little worried about the kids getting all sandy and then driving in the car and needing a bath at Kristin's house. Well, as it goes, I wasn't quite sure of the directions and wanted to go to a beach that would be somewhat on the way. We ended up in the Long Beach Harbor. It was perfect and so beautiful. We walked along the water with the kids and decided to let Hamid's balloon go up by the lighthouse that overlooked the harbor. We sat together and Ariyana opened with a prayer, "God is good, God is great, let us thank him for our food..." It warmed my heart and I bet there was laughter in the heavens. I prayed for us and that Hamid would feel our love and know that we were alright and that we know he is ok, too. I told him that as we released the balloon, we released any worries...It was hard to pray and find the words though I had been thinking about it so much. Thanksfully, Prudence stepped in and prayed for all of us - it was beautiful. Of course, the funny part is that by this time, Ariyana was ready to move on and was dancing away! We then let the balloon go....well, it just went down the hill and scared some seagulls because we left the clip on! so there we were, all running after it! So on the second try we were successful and watched it go up into the heavens until it disappeared.

It was about 9pm when we were home and the kids were settled. Mom asked me how my day had been, how I really felt...as I started to answer her, I saw something outside of the picture window. It was a bouquet of balloons perfectly centered in the window. There were 4 - two orange, one yellow, and one blue. I knew it was Hamid telling me that he heard our message and that he loves us and is alright. I smiled and said to myself, "I love you and will see you at the tree."

Here is a link to the movie I put together of our celebration.

-heather

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7VLtPmz5oC4

Signs

Each night when we go to bed Ariyana and I say our prayers. At the end I say, “God Bless…” and then I let her fill it in. We pray for our friends and family and I always try to say, “and God Bless, Baba. Amen.” As I say my own prayers often drifting to sleep, I add on that God bless Hamid and let him know that we love him and that we miss him, but that we are alright. I don’t know why but I feel that I need to reassure him that we are ok. It was hard for him to leave us – he wanted to provide better for us and I tried to assure him that we would be just fine, but I know it weighed on his heart.

A close friend told me that we all have the potential to experience connections with our loved ones who have passed on. So I have tried to open my mind and heart to the world around me. I try to listen and watch more for signs and they have come. A few weeks ago I was in Ariyana’s room playing with both kids as we got ready for bed. We were laughing and suddenly I had this urge to look up at Ariyana’s butterflies hanging on the ceiling. Both were spinning round and round. Maybe it was from Ariyana’s movement in the room…maybe not. All I know is that I had that urge to look up amidst our laughter and I felt comforted, like Hamid was able to somehow sense our childish joy and was showing that he was there with us. It happened a second time and I felt that same comfort and assurance but there have been other times when I have looked up, searching and hoping to “see” him, but the butterflies just hung there. When I am in Afshin’s room rocking him to sleep I look at Hamid’s blanket hanging on the wall and see his smile. Sitting there, I send him positive thoughts and energy – I tell him of our love and the heartache I have without him, but then I tell him that we are ok and that we love him so very much.

At night as I say my prayers I also tell Hamid that he can visit me in my dreams. Finally, he did on Sunday night. I saw him in a room, standing as he searched through papers. His back was to me and he never turned around. I asked him what he was looking for but he didn’t respond. I then told him that we didn’t lose anything, we have everything and it is ok. It is alright. I remember no longer seeing him, but feeling comfort again. I woke up that morning and smiled knowing that Hamid had visited me. I don’t know what the dream meant…what was he looking for? I don’t know, but I do know that the feelings I had were peaceful.

I believe Hamid is communicating with me and that he is alright. Though I miss him with all of my being, I know that he is with God and that he can sense me and is waiting for me.

Anticipating

It has been a while since I have written though I have thought of writing often. This month has been hard and full of anxiety and anticipation. It was last year at this time when Hamid got worse, when our hopes were dashed. It was last year at this time when Hamid was at LLMC and finally came home on the weekend on TPN. An exact year ago today, I called Dr. Barone in San Diego and begged him to see us.

This will be our first Thanksgiving without Hamid here. I have wondered and cried, "how do I do this without him? How can I sit at Thanksgiving dinner - a time for family and loved ones to be together, without him? How can I make it through the day without hearing him crack a joke and see which wine of Jeff's he can get in to? How can we not have him there asking to play, 'I'll buy that?" Part of me just wants to run from that day but I know I will get through it. I will be sad, but I will also feel the love of my family around me giving me strength to keep going. And of course, Ariyana & Afshin will bring me joy.

Recenlty, a friend asked me to reflect on what I was going to do for myself on Thanksgiving to help me get through the day and to give myself space to feel whatever the day brings. I decided to take the kids to the ocean - I always feel connected to God there and to Hamid. Somehow, being there is freeing and my heart, though it longs for Hamid, it is filled with a peace. My sister in law then shared an idea of getting a balloon and putting kisses for Hamid on it and releasing it up to the heavens for him. I felt such a lift in my heart as I thought about us doing that. So, on Thursday we are going to go the beach where we will begin our annual tradition of honoring Hamid and giving thanks for our time with him. I will post pictures and share about it later this week. I feel good having a way to connect with Hamid this Thanksgiving. I know it will still be a hard day, but I also know that somehow and someway, he will feel our love and I know that I will feel him, too.

A Great Love

We did have a great love. Over thirteen years we grew together through laughter, tears, challenges, and an unstopping love. As I type this I think of all those years that we were so far apart and yet somehow, something just kept us together.

On Saturday the VNA Hospice of Southern California held their annual celebration of life. It was beautiful. I really enjoyed seeing the nurses and staff who worked with us. Linda and Lisa were there. Though I had only met Lisa during Hamid's last 2 days, I feel so close to her. I think God had a hand in bringing her to us for Hamid's passing. As she watched over us that Wednesday morning she recognized Hamid's Purple Heart Award from Sharp Memorial - she had worked there years earlier and knew many of the nurses who had taken care of us those 4 months. I don't know if the nurses and staff have it, but I feel this deep connection to them....they saw our life at its rawest, most intimate times. I have the same feelings about the nurses, and of course Hamid's two doctors from Sharp (Dr Barone and Julie). They come into your lives and your heart is there - breaking, hoping, aching, loving...all at once, and they are there.

Me, mom, Ariyana and Afshin walked to the front of the church to place a picture of Hamid on the alter along with a single rose from our garden, which was added to the flowers from other families. I remember, there was a man who was taking the pictures and setting them out for the families. When he asked to take Hamid's picture, for a few moments I didn't know what to say. I didn't want anyone else to touch his picture - it was mine and I wanted to go and put Hamid there among the others myself. Hamid looked so handsome in that picture. It was a picture from our wedding - he was walking, holding his suit jacket over his shoulder and showing that beautiful smile of his. Yes, that smile that always gave me butterflys.

We went back to our seats. As mom and I kept the kids busy, I realized that we were the only ones there with children. I didn't see any other people my age. No young children. It was the stark reminder that it is not supposed to be like this; Hamid was too young, too full of life to be taken so early.

Dr. Quijada, Hamid's hospice doctor, was one of the speakers. He saw us as we walked to the front of the church and he waved to me. It felt like he was encouraging me. When he spoke, he said that he wanted to talk about the love that he had witnessed with two couples this year. One couple who had been married for 52 years, the other couple for 3 and who had 2 young children. Out of the hundreds of people who were being celebrated this year, he remembered Hamid and the love that we had shared. I felt so honored. He talked about the different types of love - oh, it was beautiful - he shared of our love and the trips we took while on hospice. And then Dr. Quijada talked about our love through his eyes as he watched Hamid tell me that he was going to stop his IV nutrition. He saw our tears and shared in a moment that few people are part of - a husband and wife's love, committment, pain, and acceptance. He called that love a flame - one that even death can not put out.