Tribute to the power puff girls...

When i was young, one of the hardest experience i had to go through was that of the displacement from my grandparents' village, my mother's village, Jlayliyeh.

i was only four then.
i don't even know today whether what hurt was memory or the reality of it.
i should have been too young to remember. yet, strangely i do.

i remember nathaly's toys, the moving supermarket that i dreamt i would inherit one day
i remember the field of flowers. i remember my cousin running with his broken leg, chasing me through the flowers

i remember when i fell from the small hill that seemed a mountain
i remember grieving the loss of my labneh sandwich that seemed like the greatest loss to a child's world...

and then he came. HE. Jeddo. grandfather...
He was the man of my life.
with his kepi, his white hair, his closed eyes... his Silence.
the way he loved me in silence. and i knew even as a child how much he did.

he came and took my hand and made me another sandwich. my mother even never knew.
he was enough to dry my tears...

when he got displaced, he lost everything.
his fruit trees
his olives
the paintings his son had left
his small flowers in spring...

i think he stopped living then. he stopped trying to live.

i remember his shivering hands.
he used to call my name in his semi-sleep. for he slept many years before he died.

this is why loosing Jleyliyeh was the hardest loss.
i lost him with it.


the only memory i kept of him was a smell.
it was a tree he had planted on the door of that beloved house.
i still smelt it years after his death.
i still smell it today.
and everytime i see it, i pick one of its delicate flowers and put it in my hair.

i had promised myself after his death that i would name one day my child after his tree.
a silent tribute to the man of my childhood.
a silent tribute to HIM.

Yasemin.

Y, if you read this , you will maybe understand.
i saw your blog and i read the mention you did of my own blog. you did it with so much nobleness, and so much silence... the one i cherish most.

i wanted to thank you.
for your silent presence throughout this year.
and for your dreams. because i still remember them. and your tears. because i know they were true, sincere.

this is a tribute to the three power puff girls, they will recognise who they are.
My friends.

R, for your silence, your just anger, your will to change the world, your fragility that you hide under this anger... for your beauty that i do not know whether you recognise. Please do...

V, simply for being.
the girl who told me with the Irish accent about secrets with an open heart. the girl who wrote me long emails and made me feel i was real when hell was breaking loose. the girl who seems like she does not care yet cares the most...

Y, for being aYasemin ...

love, r.