Odyssey... _-_-7- Pale Glow

Being overwhelmed in her own misery, Hana even did not notice her father's pale face and tremendous loss of weight. Sitting in the class, which was very different from high school, she had a hard time to concentrate or listen. Her chair in the class was a place to sit down and day dream. When it was time for the test, she did not know what the professor was talking about. She, who had passed the KONKOR with honor in the entire country, now did not care about the subject matter, or her future goal. Nevertheless, she kept her vision intact. In each class she met different students; and her lively vision allowed her to investigate them and discover if any of them knew her kind of pain. To her, eyes were the representative of each face and soul. She could see much pains in some of those eyes. Without speaking, all those gloomy eyes somehow befriended her; as there was an empathic glare in them that connected those young people together. Shala, a young woman in her history class, when they were talking in the campus, one day told her of the grievous death of her father. She said how her family had almost shattered because of his death. She talked about the possibility of quitting college and getting a job to help her mother. Her story was so shocking that Hana was embarrassed of being so arrogant and thinking only about her problems. How could unfair life steal education from a bright woman, who had passed KONKOR, like Shala?

Going home from school in the bus, she remembered her father's pale face and loss of weight. Disturbing thoughts provoked her; as though she, too, was about to lose her father and was forced to quit college to get a job. At home after a long time being aloof towards everyone, especially her parents, she asked her mom about dad's health:

"What is wrong with dad? He's lost a lot of weight."

"You've finally noticed!" Her mom said in a sarcastic tone.

"Don't be cynical, mom. I have my problems, too."

"What is your problem? You have everything and you don't have to work for it."

She had never seen mom this bitter, even at the time of dad's financial problem. However, she said:

"I don't want to explain myself to you. Let's leave that out. I just want to know about dad."

"Well, he's sick." Mom burst into tears.

"What kind of sickness, what?"

"We don't know yet. The doctor is running some tests,"

That news was beyond Hana's endurance. All those time she had been busy grieving and feeling sorry for herself, a greater tragedy was taking place in her house which she was not aware of it. How could she dissipate an abyss of shame that suddenly enveloped her? Wasn't she, the oldest child, was supposed to be a confidant and a shoulder to her sorrowful mother at this time? To her surprise, even her brothers and sisters knew about dad's health problem. She was truly ashamed of herself. She did not feel that it was her mother who had hidden that important matter from her, but it was her, who had been occupied by her mournful affliction, and did not care about family matters anymore. Her own sorrow had left a mask of indifference not only on her face but even on her soul which completely blinded her to see things at home, or focus at college. She finally realized that Saeid perhaps had more issues than being in love with her to take his own life! What if he wanted her to feel bad and guilty for the rest of her life for the way her family, particularly Uncle Nabi had treated his family and him. That was a terrible thought that was blooming in her. She loved to be in love with him for the rest of her life even though he was dead; but now this new thought which were forming in her mind was showing a different perspective of this whole tragedy to her.

It took a shocking trauma to bring Hana close to her parents; and she tried by doing more than her ability to make up for the stolen times. Her father, who was still going to work every morning, at age thirty five looked like an old man. Hana, who suffered a delusion after the initial shock, felt more fear than appall when looking at her dad's spiritless eyes, which at one point had been fierce and dynamic. While going to work was becoming more difficult for him, another trauma struck the family. Grandma had a stroke. Gol, Hana's mom, was torn between taking care of her family and her husband and going to hospital to visit her mother-in-law; while the two uncles, Reza and Asad, moved back to Hana's house. Hospital bills, and dad's medical expenses even with having medical insurance through his work, became unbearable, as though there was nothing else to spend.

Now that she was on track, with all the turmoils, she successfully finished the first semester at college; and to her mother's extreme surprise, she decided not to enroll but to get a job. She did not accept her parents' vehement reasoning. "I need to help. This can not go on." That was her repeated answer. Deep down inside, she wished grandma's death; so one less financial burden; and it happened. Three months after the initial stroke, grandma died in Hana's house. For the first time she saw a dead person. Grandma was laying there in her bed so quietly and peacefully that Hana could not believe she was the one who had constantly fought her mother and demanded material thing from her father.

All grandma's children, she had eight, who had never helped a dime ever to help their brother and even with the crises of the hospital bills while they knew their brother was sick, gathered in their home, screaming and crying: "Mother. mother!" The funeral and burial took place one day later, according to Islamic law that one should bury their dead in twenty four hours, unless there is a special circumstance. The customary mourning lasted one week in their home; while all the families including the eight children with their spouses and children and some friends ate lunches and dinners there. Hana's mom and her mother cooked and shopped all days. Every evening the Muslim priest, came to the house and made people to cry even harder with his reading of Koran in Arabic language. Hand was certain that nobody understood what the Muslim priest was reading. As far as she was concerned, he might be reading not from Koran but some other thing. No one knew the Arabic language. However, after the Arabic reading of supposedly Koran which made people to cry even harder was ended, the eating would start. While they were eating like pigs, in Hana's opinion, there was no crying. Everybody laughed and talked and passed around the dishes. None of dad's sister and brothers even cared to notice their older brother's deteriorating health and finance. As much as Hana wished for the end of the brawl, she knew her two uncles would again become the permanent resident of their home now that they had lost their mother. She did not understand why a twenty and eighteen years old young men needed their brother's support and supervision; and why the other sisters and brothers could not help even if it was only just a small amount! She did not like this culture which the oldest son should take care of his mother and young siblings in case of the death of his father; no, she did not like it a bit.

To Be continued