The first funeral I ever witnessed was when I was 10. I was
in the school bus heading home in Zahle, Lebanon. The bus suddenly stopped, I looked
up front and I saw a crowd, people in black and an open casket painfully
carried. The image of the man lying inside and the blond woman screaming, I will
never forget. I was always intrigued by funerals, not emotionally but aesthetically.
The black semi vintage suits that women kept ready in the closets over the
years in case a funeral came up, the protocol, the hairdos, and the classical
style that everyone followed. It was an organic, classy and serious setting. I
was young back then so I didn’t quite understand death, till pieces of my heart
started dying. Deaths has its right on all of us, we are truly born to die.
But, there is unfairness to death. Whenever death takes place, it takes me back
to the moments when death was right in front of me, allowing me the last
farewell. And then I wonder! Is it fair for us to live to the fullest caring
not and worrying never about anything that prevents happiness? I mean should I have
just hopped on a plane yesterday and enjoyed a beautiful summer in Lebanon. Should
I not care about money and live the moment, “Yalla Micha go enjoy life, money
will come. But what about rent, food, blah blah NY is expensive I mean who will
pay for that. Allah bidaber!!” Myself questioned myself. See choices in life are tricky, when I hear of a young soul
departing I just feel the urge to pursue immediate happiness. But when the compass
points towards my future, my ambitions speak out loud. I daily wonder what it
would have been if I did, in every aspect, but I know that what is going on, is
meant to be.
<3
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