By: Donya Akhavon
Sometimes we forget simple moments. Moments that can invoke so much emotion; fear, joy, love, worry, anger. And once that emotion dissipates we move on with our lives. But sometimes these moments are important to remember, because they mark our lives with little bursts of color. I think retelling moments like these helps us be conscious of the color that dots our own lives. Sometimes, time covers these moments up in its intensity, in its overwhelming ability to fly over our heads as we try to catch up to it. But in 5 minutes of reflection, a movie of memories can come back to us. Here are some memories, some colorful moments, in the lives of people like you and I.
This month, I want to start with a story from my own grandmother. Her name is Feri and she is 77 years old. This has been translated from her language, Farsi.
ENJOY
“When we were children we’d sleep on the roof. At night, the stars would fill the sky like a painting. The night was truly something marvelous.
It was completely dark, but great stars would speckle the sky like freckles on a face. You could reach out your hand and collect them all–that’s how close they were. It was so beautiful, so beautiful.
Every morning, us children would pick up with blankets and put large stones on them so they wouldn’t fly away in the wind. We had servants, but this was our responsibility.
The weather was always lovely. So, adults would set a wonderful breakfast out in the yard and gather around the rug. This took place right under and to the left of where the children slept.
Honestly, I can never remember a time when our home was empty. Always people bustled inside and out. There was always something happening somewhere in that house.
I was a naughty child. Yes, I remember one morning, I was fixing the bed from the night before. I folded the blankets and put them back in the frame. I lifted a stone to put back on top again, but instead of placing it, I flung it forward and in turn it hit another stone on the bed. Keep in mind these are not pebbles! These are thick slabs of granite meant for keeping things on the ground.
This stone catapulted through the air and fell straight down to the herd of adults enjoying their morning tea. It felt like the stone fell forever before picking its final destination.
As my father tilted his head back to sip his tea, the stone slab fell right on the bridge of his nose where his glasses lay. Oh how I feared the next few moments after that.
After a few long seconds of horrible pause, my father put his hands up and exclaimed, “I’m fine! Nothing happened. I’m fine.” Had he not gone to take that sip, his brain would’ve been bashed in. But only a scratch was left to mark the event.
I was so lucky. My brother said if anything had happened to our father, he would have killed me! All thanks to the tea I suppose.” – Feri 1941