ZIAD IN GAZA

My sister leaves to visit her friend. Both her cats stand behind the door and start meowing. Do they feel afraid she might not come back? Is it the sadness of loss?

Loss has become another companion in our days. We have reached a stage of not sharing our losses with the others because everyone is suffering. Sometimes it feels like a misery Olympics, with everyone in the group facing their own tragedy: someone lost a loved one; someone lost their home; someone lost their dream; and someone lost all three of them.

One time, I read a quote from a book called The Five Wounds – I haven’t read the book but I hope to do so one day. It says: “This is death, then: a brief spot of light on earth extinguished, a rippling point of energy swept clear. A kiss, a song, the warm circle of a stranger’s arms – these things and others – the whole crush of memory and hope, the constant babble of the mind, everything that composes a person – gone.”

Remembering this quote gave me the freedom to think of the small details I miss about everyone I love. I miss the freckles on the face of our neighbour’s son who had a smile big enough to make your day. I miss my friend and colleague’s loud laughter that used to make our manager come to the office and ask what was happening, and we would feel embarrassed.

I miss my other friend’s wonderful sense of style. She would take care of every single detail from head to toe. I wonder how she looks now, but I am sure she is managing to keep in style, even in the worst of times.

There are many details that make you who you are. I am not sure – if I make it alive – if I will still possess what makes me, me. And I wonder: will I be there in the future, or will I be someone to be remembered in a diary or over a cup of tea by a friend after I am gone?