Da (Mother) 47
The Memoirs of Seyyedeh Zahra Hoseyni
I opened the spigot in the yard, but nothing came from the hose but a rumbling of air. Whenever father came home he would hose down the yard, wanting it to be clean when we ate outside. As I looked around, I noticed that Leila had walked over to the welding equipment father used to do projects for people. I joined her and bent down to kiss the places on the tools where father put his hands.Da (Mother) 46
The Memoirs of Seyyedeh Zahra Hoseyni
His tone, which seemed high and mighty, offended me. I said, “If it is dangerous, what keeps you here? I am no different from you.” Then I quickly got back on the pickup, and we were off. The driver raced ahead about two or three hundred meters, to a place where a number of boys had taken cover. They banged on the cab and the driver stopped to give them some food. While the food was being distributed, I took a closer look at the road.Da (Mother) 45
The Memoirs of Seyyedeh Zahra Hoseyni
The man shrieked at the sight of his own blood. His face, which had been bronzed by the sun, now had the pallor of death. Several men tried to comfort him, telling him that at the hospital they would take care of him. I tied some cloth around his thigh to staunch the blood flow, something I had learned the previous night. I examined other places where shrapnel had penetrated his skin.Da (Mother) 44
The Memoirs of Seyyedeh Zahra Hoseyni
The girls helped me take her aside. Her body was shaking violently and her mouth was dry. She had no strength left after all the shouting and spasms. The girls brought some sugar water and forced it down her throat. With her taken care of, I had to see to the others. I ran into the yard and got some preserves out of a box. Then I found some bread. As soon as they ...Da (Mother) 43
The Memoirs of Seyyedeh Zahra Hoseyni
For his part father looked after her. Because mothers last name was Shah Pasand, meaning “lantana,” father planted the bushes in our little garden, and you have no idea how carefully he looked after them. Whenever Mothers Day rolled around, he would take some time thinking about what to buy her. He gave us money and told us to buy presents for her. I do not know where he got the idea ...Da (Mother) 42
The Memoirs of Seyyedeh Zahra Hoseyni
The woman Zeynab took the children by the hand and we got under way. It was getting dark by the time we reached the Sheikh Salman Mosque. People from the neighborhood and those in the mosque came forward gathering around us. All the aunts came by to embrace mother and the children, kissing them and offering their condolences. All of them were weeping. The mother of Reza said, “The last time ...Da (Mother) 41
The Memoirs of Seyyedeh Zahra Hoseyni
Then they brought a stretcher and put father on it. Salarvand, Parvizpur, the body washers, three of fathers coworkers at the mayors office, a few soldiers and local militia all accompanied the body. It was a strange sight taking him to the grave. Usually when somebody was lost, the deceaseds entire family was on hand for the burial, but today not one of fathers many relatives was there. Not even grandfather, ...Da (Mother) 40
The Memoirs of Seyyedeh Zahra Hoseyni
I took his hand and put it on my head wanting to have him caress me, but he would not. I could not believe he was gone. I placed my head on his chest, hoping to hear his heart beating. I told myself they had probably made a mistake; maybe he was not dead, but his heart did not respond. I was powerless. I opened the lower part of the shroud and knelt down to kiss his feet, ...Da (Mother) 39
The Memoirs of Seyyedeh Zahra Hoseyni
Nearing the children, we could see that Hoseyn was dragging a stick along the ground, and Hasan, holding Zeynabs hand, seemed pale, even sickly. It was clear from Mansurs expression he could not speak, but his pride kept him from crying. Mohsen was standing in a corner and sobbing. I looked around for Leila, who was being comforted by the woman Zeynab. As I looked at them in their grief, I thought about how quickly they had become orphans.Da (Mother) 38
The Memoirs of Seyyedeh Zahra Hoseyni
It was less crowded than on the previous days; there were no wounded people in the clinic. Contrary to what I had imagined, the girls were busy doing their own work. I said hello, and they greeted me warmly. The reaction was very different from the way they had behaved toward to me the day before. Gone was the familiar teasing: “Here comes the grouch” or “You look like a cadaver.”1
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