An ordinary matter

Every day, somebody dies and somebody lives. (Kasi mimeerad va kasi mimaanad--as Sohrab says)

It's hot today. I wake up, eat breakfast. The dog is visiting today. He is tired and quiet. He sleeps on the couch all day.

We go out to rent a car. It's hot and it doesn't seem like a Monday. Mondays have a feeling, a certain smell--maybe that of rush, urgency and must-do's. But not today. Today is a lazy day.

We get a red car and drive off. He is smoking even more now and ironically, the radio has a program on about smoking and heart attack and stroke. I know he is listening. I just don't know when he would stop smoking, if ever.

Somebody dies,
Somebody lives,
Every day.

I come home. I color her hair. We chat and she complains about life and her feet and her legs as usual. I tell her she needs to read "A Complain Free World", this book I read last year. (Not that I listened totally but hey, it helped).

I come down and turn on the AC. It's too hot today. I take out the little dog for a walk.

Somebody dies,
Somebody lives,
...every day

We attended her father's memorial service yesterday. The flowers were beautiful, a reflection of the kind of life he lived. Her father cried when I passed the bar--I will never forget that. She spoke of him eloquently. She cried apologetically. There were lots of people there. I also liked the speaker a lot, he spoke of death as if it's like washing dishes. Well, it is but who would believe it? I tell everyone to make sure they hire this guy when I die to speak for me, but they laugh. Nobody wants to accept their own mortality, yet every day someone dies and someone lives...

The dog is now snoring on the couch and they are sleeping upstairs. I speak to my doctor who says my thyroid is now normal compare to last year. I make a couple of more phone calls but today is a lazy hot day. I can still smell the flowers we bought them last week when they arrived at the airport.

Last time I saw her father healthy and happy was at Amoo R's funeral last year. He made a joke with me. He was such a kind and humorous man. He will be missed...

He and all those who are gone, and those who will be gone soon because every
day, someone dies...yet someone lives.

And it's bittersweet...

It's the first Monday morning of the new year. And it's bittersweet.

I hear a knock at my door and he wakes me up from a dream. I was dreaming of my uncle of and his wife whom we haven't seen in two years. They had come over for dinner, all seemed peaceful. Then the dream switched to another scene where a man was selling me both business cards and rings. It was bizarre.

I get out of bed and put a heavy jacket on for the January morning in California is very cold--for me. I take him to work in South Orange County. He has spent the night here and my sister has spent the night at their new place in Hollywood. I am taking him to work and his wife is picking him up. He says he is giving his notice today. Our schedules are all a mess. His old life has come to an end here.

We have a long week ahead of us, long and exciting. Our parents are coming back, after two years and four months. Well, they are coming for a "visit" now but I am planning to keep them--forever. I am planning to take them hostage and hug them until eternity. It is true that I let go of some of my attachments in the past two years, I really did. But at the end of it all, I still want to be near them all the time, just like a baby--forever.

This week comes while a dear friend of mine mourns her father's passing after a long and arduous battle with several diseases. Last night, I felt a heaviness in my chest as I fell asleep. "He was too young...Hayvooni", she kept repeating yesterday. "He was such a good dad, he was my friend", She would add. I felt her with all my being more so because that is exactly how I feel about my own father--he is my friend. And with her loss, I lose part of my father too.

With every loss, we all experience some form of death.

Yet, my father is coming back tomorrow and I can't help but think how much more time do I have left with him? And how would I spend it in the best possible way?

A recent author I have discovered says we only have what we have until we need it in our lives. When we lose them, that's because they were no longer needed. It kind of make sense but I am not sure yet if I can digest that completely. If you are a great father for 40 years and a great husband for 45 years and a great man for 64, does that mean that you have done your job? that you passed the test and now you can go?

There is so much to say about death. So much that we don't understand...

They also say with every death, a new life is born. Is that true? Yesterday at a gathering at their house, they were already discussing buying a puppy for her mom. Is that the new life?

We have a long week ahead of us this week packed with excitement and sadness a the same time. It's bittersweet...