When My Mind's Made Up

Happy 2010.

I've made so many great connections with people via this little blog since 2006. Kinzi, MommaBean, UmmAbdullah, UmmAli, so many of you I know now because I was a sometimes-commenter on other blogs, and then I decided it was high time to meet some of you great ladies, which I did. I befriended you. And that lead to Little League, and to meeting more of you. And now my social calendar runneth over. (not really, but it's just as full as I need it to be)
And so it goes. Degrees of separation that become fewer and fewer as days and weeks pass, and we see that we truly are living in a small town. A community. Little ol' Amman, Jordan, where folks are generally good to one another. We can smile. We can make living here work.

You know, in November I joined NaNoWriMo, and wrote a little book. It is rough, but seems solid to me. I put it away on November 28 when my best friend died. I tried that night, after learning the news, to punch out a few more words, to make it to that 50,000 word mark, but I couldn't. So it has been sitting, saved and waiting, on several hard drives in our house (I became paranoid it would be lost forever, like in those films where the only typed hard copy goes flying up into the wind). So far so good in that department.

Here comes the part that is going to make me choke up.

Fatima had made up her mind. She was so at peace with the idea of leaving this earth. I think that in her thirty three years of life, she managed to give more gifts than most can do in a life span three times hers. I had a bad "Fatima" day the other day, feeling really sorry for myself, missing her so much that my heart felt it had been tied into a thousand knots, and I couldn't breathe. And I think of her beautiful children bouncing around the house, asking their father when they are going to be able to visit Mama in heaven. I just wanted to touch her face one last time. Do you know that the beautiful, amazing sisters I left behind in Birmingham went to wash her body in my stead? On my behalf? "For Jennifer," (yes, that's my name, in case you have not figured that out after all these years), they said. "Because that is what she would do. That is what Fatima would have wanted."

I swear that I have been blessed in my life with the most amazing, magnificent gifts of friendship. Treasures upon treasures that I never knew I could manage to have, and keep. Making friends isn't much of a talent--but keeping them is.

I contrast her passing with that of my father, who was angry with us--his children--and with life in general. He went through life feeling wronged most of the time. I'm so glad I don't feel wronged, day in, day out. He was a good man, a funny man, a smart man. He gave gifts, too. But in the end, his vision of what mattered became clouded. So, so sad. I wonder what he felt as he took his last breath--I think he was scared, and I think he clutched onto some of that rage that I find can well itself up in me from time to time. I am my father's daughter, after all.

So, friends, this blog has been a great thing in my life. Really. I appreciate all of the readership, albeit small, and I am grateful to all of you who encouraged me to write. Some of you have mourned with me quite a bit this year. Do you know how much you helped me? You never will, I think.

My writing is going someplace else, now, taking a new turn in this road to self-awareness. But what a grand cog this blog has been in my wheel!

Two days after Fatima passed away, I pulled out this film that my beautiful sister sent me a few years back. I had never watched it, but I felt it was time to check it out. I do not live in the pop culture world, so some things pass me by and I discover them later than most. And for me, that's OK.

I have watched this clip from the film over and over. And over. Such powerful words, such unabashed heart. I feel unabashed right now. Raw. And ready to move on.

Thanks again, everyone. I'll still be dropping by to visit you all at your cog-blogs. Keep your wheels of hope turning.

Long Pause

I received word yesterday morning that Umm Zakaria, K.M., my beloved friend who battled cancer for a year and a half, passed away from an apparent heart complication.

Inna lilahi wa inna ilayhi raji'oon.

Most messages I've received have read something like, "We thought of you first, being so far away." I asked my mother and my husband both if the bond between us was that obvious. "Yes," they both told me, "it was."

How I loved her!

She kept a blog from time to time, discussing her treatment, thoughts about it, and general strategies she had for dealing with the immense pain she was in. If any of you reading this would like to go over and comment, or talk about what she meant to you, I think that would be something to help us all--so many of us are grieving!--with this great loss.

The Pink Hijab

Carvings and Slicings: Happy Everything

Happy Thanksgiving to all of my friends and family in the US and here, who partook of the cranberry sauce and freshly carved, juicy (not dry!) turkey and all the trimmings. And pie.

Happy Eid to all of my friends and family who were fasting yesterday, the day of Arafat, while those who were able to make Hajj stood on Mt. Arafat, praying for God's mercy and for the good of humankind to show itself here in our lives on earth.

Today we woke early and went to the Eid prayer, where the khatib actually mentioned the word grace several times, and used it in terms of God's grace being bestowed on us. Maybe he has said this phrase many times before, but I've never had my ears open enough to hear it. It was a particularly important message today, though.

May we remember Abraham's sacrifice to God this day. May we remember the sacrifices of all of our loved ones, near and far, who helped to shape our lives and who love us unconditionally, through forgiveness, compromise, and grace.

May God's bounty show itself in your lives, each and every day.

I see a wee bit o' mutton in my future this afternoon.

One last thing: Roll Tide, ROOOLLLLL!

Not writing, posting

I am wasting some time until dinner is ready. I messed up a "curry spice pack" meal by not reading the directions, which call for an additional "coconut powder pack" that I do not have. We'll see what happens. My mind was not in the kitchen. Farouq is a Curry Kid, so he probably won't care.

I just read this article on yahoo about new findings regarding the Shroud of Turin. It has been a long time since I read anything about the famed shroud, and I wonder what the mainstream Christian community thinks about it. Is it just a Catholic relic, preserved in the archives? Is it really from the 14th, instead of 1st, century? The article suggests that there are new findings of text that could not have been written in medieval times, as most skeptics believe the shroud's dating to be. I just don't know. What do my Christian friends think?

So reading this article reminded me of a book I read in the eighth grade, The Robe, by Lloyd C. Douglas. I remember selecting the book in the library, because I was in one of those "I'm gonna read a big fat book and challenge myself" moods. I get those sometimes, and then I procrastinate, much as I did when reading The Robe. I remember trying to read 400 + pages over a weekend before I had a presentation due on it. The book was dry--at least, to a twelve-year old--and I wasn't as much into spiritual enlightenment as I was into buying a new sweater at Limited Express.

I do remember, though, freaking my English teacher out when I presented my book report orally, addressing the class as Marcellus Galius, the protagonist. Or antagonist? Heck, he lead the crucifixion team. Perhaps he was a bit of both, I guess, since he made a transformation. The robe, it was the robe. Seeing that name now--Marcellus Galius--reminds me of Marcus Aurelius, which of course makes me think of the film Gladiator, and logically my mind follows to Russell Crowe, then leads me to daydreaming (stop that!) about how buff he was in that film, as compared to the last film I saw him in, State of Play, where he looked short and stout. Like a teapot. Tip him over, pour him out.

I remember getting a really good grade on that book report, though.

Thanks for allowing me a small distraction. Now it's off to eat so-so curry, and back to writing.

How about that?

So, it seems it is really time to vote on those Brass Crescent Awards now. This blog, I humbly report, was nominated again in the Best MidEast blog category, along with last year's winner, (does he need an intro?) The Black Iris; my friend Al Miskeenah (I just got that beautiful shawl out you sent me for winter wear); and two new ones (to me), Saudi Jeans and A Saudiwoman's Weblog. Thank you, Um Omar, my yearly notifier of blog nominations and awards.

Thank you to my 46 regular readers for sticking around. I know this year I have not posted as much as I did in, say, 2007, but 2009 threw me some punches I did not expect. Gaza, for one, impacted more than I ever expressed on this forum, and still impacts me, nearly one year later. I did write some things about Gaza back in January. Perhaps you could go back and read some of them if you have a moment.

Then my father passed away, suddenly and shockingly. Here again, nearly one year later, I'm dealing with the whatevers from his death. Day by day.

I also lost my dear Aunt Shirley, whom I loved. She is missed by so many people on this planet. I am thrilled I get to see her only daughter next month; she's stopping by Amman en route to Palestine, (gotta work on getting her to call it that, as opposed to the "I" word), which is not actually en route--she'll be doing a quick flyover, come see us, then backtrack and meet up with her tour group in the Holy Land. Excitement!

Hey, blogging this year has hooked me up with some neat people. I've corresponded with a lovely sister from New Zealand, and another from Great Britain but originally from the Czech Republic. We actually met. I bought her a cocktail (read: fruit smoothie) and she came and visited me in my home. That was neat. (I hope you are well, have you had that baby yet? We're waiting on your move to Amman, so we can see you regularly.)

And now I'm tackling this "book" of sorts, which has kept me on my typing toes. I'm learning quite a bit about my technique, and what I need to work on, and what I'm fairly OK at, and and and... It's all a process.

So, go out and vote today for the Best Blogs around, and thanks for all of your support during the last four years. You've been smashing.

And someone please tell me to quit buying Cadbury Snack bars. They are small for a reason. But I can eat half a dozen. Tell me to stop. Tell me.

One more second of procrastination won't hurt

I almost forgot--voting is supposed to begin today.
Buena suerte, friends.

Brass monkey, that funky monkey (come on, I know you know that song)

Wruh Wroh, Wraggy!

Just a quick nanowrimo update.

The writing is slow-going.

So far I've remained on target two days only. Two days straight (a.k.a. "the weekend") I wrote nothing. Laundry and dust won.

Today I finally reached around 11,000 words, or 20 A-4 sized, 12 font typed pages.

Then I made a mistake, and went back and read everything, thus allowing that little voice of self-doubt to creep in. Self-doubt is still taking up shop in my head.

After reading and
1. being pleasantly surprised by some of the things I had written but already forgotten, and
2. criticizing about 80% of what I'd read,
I prepared snacks. Too many snacks, and I ate them all, and washed them down with a tall cold one. (Dr. Pepper)

Vowing off updating until the final stretch, around November 28th, I bid you goodnight.