This is overwhelming, Nana. :)
First Eid
without you. First Eid with no Shemerly family gatherings to attend together
nor visiting you at home nor debating over the fact that I am too old for a
3idia. You always tell me 'You'll never grow up on a 3idia. You'll always be my
little granddaughter no matter how old you get, Yosr.' :) I miss your place,
the smell of home and your genuine sincerity. I miss your look, smile and the
gossip chitchatting. I even miss debating and disagreeing over Egypt's daily
topics. I miss your homemade kahk, ghoryba, and the all-time signature borik
and menini. :)
Well, too many memories is still
stuck in this place as if your soul is still present missing us too, and you're
not yet gone. Almost a year passed, yet I am in denial. Everything here reminds
me of nothing but you, Nana. I miss you. May you rest in peace. ربنا
يرحمك ويعفوا عنك ويرزقنا صحبتك في الجنة
..
Yes, when someone we love dies, and
you’re not expecting it, it seems as if time stands still. And silence... a
quiet sadness... often can be felt, not just heard, a longing for one more
day... one more word... one more touch... You don’t lose them all at once; you
lose them in pieces over a long time. Gradually, you accumulate the parts of
them that are gone. Just when the day comes — when there’s a particular missing
part that overwhelms you with the feeling that they are gone, forever ..
I miss you Nana, and you will always be remembered beautifully ..
