I started making lists when my father was dying and we did not know yet that he was dying. 

Things that happened in the hospital while you were sick:

• ·       We met so many families in the hospital, to some we felt connected, as prisoners on this trip we did not ask to take. There was one woman from Peru who liked to sit next to Pierre. She said she found him calming; he really is.
• ·         We drew pictures of our visions of you being healthy with Iris and left them on the wall next to all the other pamphlets of emotional care during emergency care and support groups.
• ·         Whenever the doctors came you told them you were feeling fine.

When he was unconscious, the lists continued.

Things that happened while you were sleeping: 

• ·        Lior did great on her exams, even with going back and forth to be with you.
• ·         Neta came to see you from Israel.
• ·         Ruthy massaged your feet with love.
• ·         Sabush wrote you letter everyday.
• ·         Ima convinced the doctors that she was allowed to lie down next to you, even in the emergency care unit.
• ·         Iris brought you a stone from Beenleigh.
• ·         I began looking like a balloon, a big one.
• ·         Daniela was born.

Now, that my father has died, and a big part of me feels unconscious, I make lists to remember. 

• ·         Our last meal together at home, Mafe Boeuf.
• ·         The time you put your hand on my stomach and Daniela kicked you and you laughed, the only time you two interacted, at least that I could see.
• ·         Your last words to me, how are you feeling?

If everything is so transient, we have to write everything down, as if words ever brought back a person.

When my Abush was in the hospital, at times it felt like we were negotiating with the doctors. “We’ll take him home even less than perfect. We can handle physical rehabilitation if he needs it, even dialysis, just let us take him home.”  Death may seem final, but somehow the negotiations continue, we search in the dark for more of him that we can carry with us.

Things I search for/ negotiate: 

• ·         Letters in shoe boxes
• ·         E mails that are meaningful
• ·         Pictures I have not seen before
• ·         Videos so I can see him again
• ·         Stories from his friends that I had not heard before
• ·         A dream, I would so much like a dream so that we can be together again, maybe he can meet Daniela there.

People often say that those who have left us stay with us, in our hearts, souls, memories. We carry those who have left with us, and yet no one tells you that the carrying is heavy. Everything is touched by absence, everything is touched by grief, every breath, and every smile, it is like carrying around another person only instead of preparing to enter the world, the person is entering deeper and deeper in. I am not sure how mourning becomes easier if each day that goes by makes it the longest time we have gone without talking. I just miss him more and more.

It feels impossible that he is really gone, that we can’t do it over and maybe find the mistakes that could save him. Sometimes it seems strange that the world keeps going. My world feels so different. I had 30 years as my father’s daughter, and now is my new life as a mother. I so desperately wanted these lives to overlap. It is difficult to accept sometimes that the same world that brought me Daniela, the world I travel and marvel at its beauty, its diversity, is also the world that took my Abush away. When I feel joy, and there are joyous moments, I feel at the end of my breath, “I’m still mad at you world,” and when I feel sad, in those small  hours of the night, I don’t forget to say thank you for all that I do still have.

When Daniela was born, I truly understood what my parents did for me. Caring for a child is unconditional love, especially in the first days, when a baby cannot do much but eat and sleep, and yet love just overflows towards them, without any need for response. We begin our lives with our parents’ love, it is the foundation for a life time. Now that my father is not with us, the hardest part to accept is the lack of response, not being able to e mail, or skype, or meet anywhere. I write him letters because I think about him all the time and sometimes it is nice to do something for him. Without response, now is my turn to love him unconditionally, not because of how he helps me, makes me laugh, or loves me, but just because he was wonderful. At the end of the cycle, it is my turn to love unconditionally, to give and give and not wait for anything in return.

In the time since my last update, we’ve travelled a lot. We went with Daniela to Paris to spend time with family there, and a few weeks ago returned to our home in Uganda. Being here with a baby is nice, it connects me to something universal that deepens my connections with friends and colleagues here. The walk up our hill that used to take 15 minutes, takes 45 minutes with Daniela because everyone wants to see her. When I go to work, I am greeted at Mama Daniela, and Pierre was told that now that he has a child he can be referred to as Sir. When I run down our hill at the end of the day because I miss Daniela, and I really do mean run, people smile and let me run by. Sometimes people still think I do funny things, like when I read to Daniela and people ask “you know she does not understand you?” or when we use a soother and people want to know “if that ka-thing gives her food.” In just a few months, Daniela has become a little person who smiles at us, laughs, makes sounds, and even has preferences. 

Things I want to be in my Abush’s memory: 

• ·         A good daughter to my mother, a good sister, a good wife
• ·         A good mother
• ·         A writer
• ·         A happier person
• ·         A person who takes pictures of food
• ·         An optimist
• ·         Someone who can hold grief in one hand and happiness in the other
• ·         Someone who keeps all who have crossed my path in my heart and in a tin box
• ·         A person who can still make him smile with pride

Thank you for being in my life.

Inbal

Some Pictures of Daniela in Uganda.