Remembering

Two years ago Hamid died as I lay nestled beside him dreading the moment, yet somehow anxious for it to come so that Hamid could finally be at peace like he wanted. Two years seems like an eternity.

As a mother now, I sit here remembering him, and I think about how much his mother must have loved him. Forty eight years ago he was born in Tehran, Iran. I wonder if his mother knew how much she would love that little boy that she held in her arms. Did she know as she looked into his big brown eyes with those eyelashes that she would later go out of her way to make him special meals while the others ate the dish she had originally prepared for their dinner, and give in to his requests for a motorcycle? Hamid always told me that he was her favorite. I was not surprised; he had that way about him, yes, he did.

Hamid’s mother and father must have realized that he was strong; that he was a survivor. They sent him along with his younger sister to the United States on their own. I can’t imagine the feelings that must have coursed through their hearts as they waved good-bye. Excitement and relief knowing they were giving their children a chance for a better life in the US, yet fear, anxiety and sadness to know they would not see their children for a long time. As I write this, it reminds me of some of the feelings I felt that morning two years ago.

A lot has happened this past year. I am grateful to have found peace in what God has given me. There are still hard days and precious moments with Ariyana and Afshin where I find my heart breaking as I wish Hamid was here to see them. He would be so proud of them. Both of them have many of his characteristics; that worries me as I think of their teenage years. Oh, he was such a charmer. Their sensitivity and maturity always amazes me. I know they are still understanding his death in their own way and it will continue to evolve as they get older and want to know more. Bless his heart, but even Afshin picks up on moments when I miss Hamid. Father’s day morning when the kids and I had a little time alone while Wayne was running I was thinking of Hamid. I made a comment to Afshin as he strummed Hamid’s guitar that “Your Baba loved to play guitar.” He finished his “song” and came over to me nodding as he said, “You’re sad Baba’s not here, yes? Yes? Don’t worry, I love you.” And then he wrapped his little arms around me. I call Afshin my “angel boy.” He truly is. I think God gave him, a little boy, as a gift to me knowing that we would have a special bond for what we went through together from the moment he was in my womb to the moment he joined us and renewed our hope.

So, today I toast to a great man, to a man who opened his heart to love, to a man who was incredibly brave. I toast our memories of laughter and fun. I toast the gifts he gave me during his life. I toast our children who will carry on his legacy. You are always in our hearts, Hamid.