…I’m sorry you grew up without me and that fatherly moments came second hand like clothing and toys from your brothers…
Men and women were doing at their unsurpassed when they were together. It was more or less like the sky and the ground; diverse in nature and was miles apart but they complete each other.
Here’s what I learned about life when we were going through that. We’re all human and mortal. We’re all going to suffer and die. But it’s how we are with each other during those times that proves God’s here with us.
Today I wore a pair of faded old jeans and a plain grey baggy shirt. I hadn’t even taken a shower, and I did not put on an ounce of makeup. I grabbed a worn out black oversized jacket to cover myself with even though it is warm outside. I have made conscious decisions lately to look like less of what I felt a male would want to see. I want to disappear.
My father used to say there are two kinds of people: the noticers and the noticed
This book is a personal memoir; but it is also a larger story-about carelessness and guilt, and the wreckage they can make of lives.
I found myself stuck into a Gertrude’s Dream Waltz universe. Like Gertrude, I was trapped inside a body that bellied little of the person inside, while simultaneously ensnared in a home filled with people that looked like the person inside the unsightly body.
Do you enjoy holidays with your family? I don’t mean your mom and dad family, but your uncle and aunt and cousin family? Personally, I do. There are several reasons for this. First, I am very interested and fascinated by how everyone loves each other, but no one really likes each other. Second, the fights are always the same.
Life was good. Everything was going right. It was almost scaring him because usually when things were going this well it was the calm before the storm hit.
What about Danny Thomas?” Uncle Hal asks. “What happened to him?
“Dead,” Uncle Abdelhafiz says. “Nice Lebanese boy.”
“Never mind about Danny Thomas, look what happened to your whole family! Look at your cousin Farouq, Great Uncle Ziad, Auntie Seena and Jimmy’s son Jalal,” Aunt Jean cuts in disapprovingly.
“Dead, dead, dead, and in jail.