By: Salwa Saab
AT last, you are with me without having the
fear as the master of the moment, without exhorting extra thoughts of worries. Those
days have gone and will not return? I am no more afraid of
the probability of our reunion? Now we can stop being afraid
of the eyes that observed our movements and our moments
together. I cannot believe this. Nonetheless, I can still
feel the tranquility as it fills my heart and thoughts while
you lie before my eyes unusually calm. O ye constant
traveler- traveling towards an endless horizon, are you
really tired from the long journey?
Your silence is generally eloquent and articulate and for
the first time it is telling your buried secrets openly.
Your silence is reading several stories about that legendary
heroism. I was craving to hearing its details from you. But
that cannot happen, not even in dreams.
My hands are pouring water to stream all over your body like
some shining crystal lines, entering the pores that are
thirsty for life – and one knows that from water every
living thing is made. I wonder, will it blow life in you
once more my beloved one?
My hands are touching an old and deep wound in your body.
The day when you were injured, they thought that they nailed
you. However, one week after you recovered from the coma,
you returned to life. And one month later, you returned to
the arena of resistance with further determination and
perseverance to fight.
Let me touch your face so that I can draw with my hand an
everlasting memory. I will draw its lines like the pure
infant, like the solemnity of a serious man who knows no
fear. Oh, I always craved for some moments that would bring
us together, counting each minute a thousand times! I wonder
about this tranquility that wraps me despite these
incredible conditions that I am experiencing in your
presence! Forgive me for my boldness and courage. I will not
hide any secret from you, O master of my entire life.
Another issue pushed me to do so, which I mentioned earlier.
My eagerness to meet with you alone, without any
observation, drove me to clarify this issue.
Do you remember our first days together? You were young,
below the age of twenty. You asked my hand at that time. My
parents and your parents disagreed at that time for many
reasons. One of the reasons was that you were a fighter who
was affiliated with a party, carrying your blood with your
own hands – as my parents said – that you were too young for
marriage – as your parents said – and yet despite these
protests we got married.
Twenty years passed like "the blink of an eye." There were
good times and equally there were bad times. Yes, I was
satisfied, sipping the bitterness of patience and waiting, a
cup after another. Now I confess before you that fear
visited me several times during the nights of your recurrent
absence. It was the fear of something expected, which had to
arrive in the end.
Now I am finishing the first term: washing you with pure
water, perfumed water and camphor.
Now I come to the second and final term: Dressing you with
the last shroud. Do you remember the day when you gave it to
me to treasure it with my wedding dress! On that day I cried
and you embraced me with compassion and said: I want you to
know from the beginning that life with me is not going to be
easy. Death is stalking me on each corner.
This kind of cover time after time passes by the graves of
the saints and good people to receive their blessings! Now,
your remains will add to these blessings.
Are you ready for your final destiny? I will no longer worry
while waiting for your return. It is now your turn to wait
for me. Reserve a place for me next to you in the afterlife.
And should your rank be a high one that I do not deserve,
reserve for those who deserve it among the martyrs and the