ZIAD IN GAZA

 I am sad, exhausted and frustrated. Minutes ago, my sister, Ahmad and I sat down and started sharing who, among the people we know, died recently. A friend’s mother, another friend’s brother and a third friend’s sister. The angel of death is roaming the skies of Gaza, nonstop.

It is very hard when your friends are going through tough times, yet you cannot be there with them to share their sadness. We are too tired to express sadness. I just want to sit in silence and grieve; I want to do nothing and talk to no one.

We heard knocking on the door. The oldest granddaughter peeked through the door and asked: “Would you like to play cards?”

I looked at her, and then said: “Sure, why not? Let’s play cards.”