My grandfather passed away in April from lung cancer. We all called him Baba, which means Dad in arabic. Baba was funny, gracious, and always ready to smile. I wish that I could have had conversations with Baba, but it was hard because I only know a few words of arabic and he only knew a few words of english. But I didn't have to talk to him to know that he loved me. I knew from the way he smiled at me. I felt loved when he would get up and walk slowly to the kitchen to bring me a soda. Baba was a good host and made sure everyone in his house had their favorite drink. He aksed questions about my life, which my mother would translate. He wanted to know how I was doing in school, and if I had found a job yet. If I hadn't visited him for a while, he scolded me. "Why haven't I seen you?" he would ask, giving me a hug.
Baba had a wonderful sense of humor. During one visit, he asked me to give him his "teeth". I was surprised because I didn't know that Baba wore dentures. I had visions of fishing fake teeth out of a drinking glass. I asked my uncle for help. He walked over and picked something off the shelves behind me. It was a mortar and pestle set, which Baba used to mash up nuts and seeds. His teeth. It still makes me smile.
I miss Baba very much and still find myself expecting to see him. He was a good man and a wonderful grandfather.
Saturday, June 28, 2008
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