Nirvana - When Rapture & Oblivion Collide.

My beloved father;

How have you been? It’s been over three years now. How is life underneath? Or are you above? How is it over there? Is it as glorious as we’ve been taught? Can you see me? Can you see us? Can you hear what we say? Do you get time to sleep? Are you watching football? How is teaching? Are your students good enough? Are you friendly with them the way you’ve always been? Have you met your parents and siblings? Did your personality change? Do you have the same loud laugh? Have you got one of your kidneys back? Is there a pool for you to swim in? How is God? Have you met Him? Have you talked to Him? Do you have countries over there or is it one universal nation? What language are you using? Do you meet new people every day? Can you go back in time? Are you able to blow feathers the way Patrick Swayze did in the movie ‘Ghost’? I can sense you around me but it would be good if I can see you, for just one last time, can I, please? I am not going to tell anyone if that what it takes, not even mom.

I am sorry I haven’t visited you much lately. We just buried Aunt Laila two weeks ago. I hope she’s keeping you company, it’s almost the whole family reunited. You always made fun of her, so I hope you’re giving her a hard time now. Your birthday is in a month and I am going to be there, just like last year, singing for you. You will be 66. Damn, old man, you’re getting old!

I miss our Friday breakfasts with you sitting on the floor in the living room. I miss going to swim with you. I have always loved swimming with you. I miss you getting all nervous when you sit beside me while driving, even though I was always the slowest driver in the family. I miss your loud farts, and how it irritated my sister. I miss giving you a foot massage when you couldn’t walk after your operations. I miss telling you stories, useless stories, meaningless ones, and you would always listen to me till the end. I miss seeking your advise. I miss taking the TV remote control from you and how short it lasted before you take it back. I miss watching you take the newspaper every morning to the bathroom to read it while launching your missile. I miss kissing your hand, even though I rarely did. I miss your colognes; especially the Brit, the old green Polo and ancient Yves Saint Lauren that no one loved except you, and your infamous Gillette shaving foam. You know, I spray them a lot just to feel you around. I miss dialing your number. I haven’t dialed it since January 6th 2010 and I am not sure if it’s in use or not, but I will never forget it, and even though I changed my cell phone and lost all my numbers, but I still had it saved under 'Pappy 01005390394'.

So, dad, I am seeing this amazing girl. It aches me that you are not here to see her yourself. You would have loved her insanely. You always said I have bad taste in women, but believe me, your son really made you proud this time. You would have known that this isn’t one of those meaningless relationships or a rebound. You knew me better than I’ve known myself. You knew what bothered me before I complained and what made me happy before I even know it. She is everything that I wanted. You would have seen it all in my eyes. The way I see her, treat her and how I talk about her. I love her. Yes, dad, I do love her, faithfully. Are you happy for me? I am sure you are.

I will stop boring you with my life now and let you enjoy the rest of your day.

Prof. Dr. Zaki Azmy, I hope I live to be half the man you were.

I love you.

Sincerely & faithfully,

Your son,
Sherif.