Inside Ellie's Head

Cookie Cookie Cookie

Elmo over the bed... Cookie monster on the other wall. That's how I roll

Apparently my little niece kisses her Elmo good night every night since I painted it last month. 

And the first thing she said when she saw her cookie monster floating up up up on her wall: 

"Where is his cookie?"

So I guess I'm going back to paint a cookie in his waiving hand. 

Mural Addition...

Today, I spent some time adding one of my 4-year-old niece's favorite characters to the mural I painted for her before she was born. The addition was to cover up a butterfly that has been scaring her. What better to cover up a butterfly than a giant hot air balloon with Elmo in it? 

I painted in the morning, then taught some dance lessons in the evening. A full day's work.

Here are some pictures:

Living a Long Healthy Life

My grandfather was well in his 90s when he passed away. Even in the last months, he could remember perfectly the phone numbers of all his 10 children (even the one in still living in Iran), and a number of his grand children and great grand children. He knew the addresses of all his countless homes in Iran and in the US. He knew the dates of his world travels, and his sense of humor was still intact... I never thought that he would ever pass away, he was so alive and lively. 

For a great number of years, he exercised every day - he took a brisk 2-hour walk in the mornings and spent about 30 minutes of a stationary bike which he kept in his garage before bedtime. He showered and shaved every day, and ate home cooked healthy meals. 

I was reminded of him when I saw this Iranian gentleman celebrating his 102nd birthday. 

Proposition 8 - Same Sex Marriage for CA?

I have received several emails now from people in my network urging me to vote yes on proposition 8. They urge me to "pass this message on for the sacrament of marriage and for the sake of our children." They claim that if this proposition fails the entire institution of marriage is threatened.

Today I received a video forward that featured the story of one family that is completely outraged when their five-year-old son came home from kindergarden one day with a "diversity book bag" that contained a book entitled "Who is in a family?" This book introduced the child to same sex households. The announcer lead into this interview by stating that if prop 8 fails "public schools at any stage - even kindergarden - will have to teach your children to accept same sex marriages."

AM I MISSING SOMETHING?

Is it not better for everyone when there is more "acceptance" and "compassion" in the world, especially in this great country of ours? 

Do these parents assume that because their son now knows about the existence of gays, he will automatically want to marry a man when he grows up? 

Do parents who hold these beliefs not realized that their child, if he grows up with homosexual desires -- which (if he is gay) he will even if he is not given a "diversity book bag" in kindergarden -- will feel more alienated, less understood, and much more prone to depression, isolation, and even suicide? 

I am amazed and appalled. The purpose of the diversity book is obviously not to recruit children into gayhood, but rather to educate them in an effort to raise the level of knowledge, tolerance, and acceptance among the next generation of Americans. Increased education and acceptance has a potential to lead towards less violence and hostile behavior towards the gay and lesbian co-citizens of our diverse country. 

And so what if two men or two women get married and have a family? I don't believe that a same sex couple is capable of raising a child any worse than a heterosexual couple can. After all, most of the greatest criminals, pedophiles, thieves, rapists, and serial killers were born into and raised by heterosexual households. 

Who are we to judge and mandate how others choose to live their lives? Knowing that there are families with two mommies or two daddies is not harmful nor confusing for children. After all not all families look the same anyway. Some kids are raised by only a mommy or by only a daddy. Some are raised by their grandparents, aunts, or foster families. Some kids live with their older siblings while others are in orphanages. Some kids have 9 siblings and some are only children. Some kinds live in beautiful homes with their own rooms while others share a bedroom in their apartment with their 3 siblings. Children have no problem knowing about and accepting the lifestyles and circumstances of others, gay, straight, divorced, widowed, dead, or otherwise. 

Vote NO on Proposition 8!

And if you want a list of things that are infinitely  more harmful for children than being acceptant of their gay and lesbian neighbors, here it is:

- Fast food! Any kind - you might as well be giving your child diabetes for his 25th birthday

- Soda - It will dehydrate your child while making him fat

- Juices that are filled with sugar 

- Watching more than 1.5 hours of age appropriate TV per day

- Too many toys - especially those that are modeled after their favorite shows. These don't give the child the chance to develop his or her own problem creating and problem solving abilities. 

- Playing more than 1 hour of video games per day

- Not enough quality time with adults

- Not enough play time

- Not enough outdoor activities such as walking, running, biking, hiking, swimming, etc. 

Ideas for a Peaceful World...

I believe that there is a sense of collectiveness in peace. If you see everyone else as part of your own family or even as an extension of yourself, there is a chance you will:

-  Refrain from waging needless war on them. 

-  Try to understand the motivation in their actions and frustrations. 

-  Try to preserve their home, find them shelter if you can, or simply be compassionate to their living situations. 

It comes down to compassion and seeing people as individuals who are part of our immediate social circle rather than some other entity or group.I do think that for many people developing compassion for others is a process and will take some time. 

It is not possible to have peace outside of ones self if there is no peace within. The same way that one cannot love and respect another human being without first loving and respecting ones self. 

I honestly don't know what complete peace would look like. But if I was asked to make some suggestions towards it, I guess these few items come to mind:

*  There should be collection agencies set up that are in charge of collecting, sorting through, and distributing the following items across the US:

-  Books and learning materials that are thrown away by affluent schools. These can be taken to schools with more limited resources. 

-  Food that is being thrown away every day at restaurants, coffee shops, etc. can be picked up and taken to shelters. There can be carts set up in poor neighborhoods where people can come and pick up the food. Many coffee houses will bake breads and pastries in the morning only to throw them away that same night. 

-  Clothing, etc. 

*  For many countries it is cheeper to dump excess food supplies into the ocean than to ship them to a country in need. There should be government incentives set up for companies to collect and ship foods from manufacturers and growers. Many times if a product is in any way "deformed" it gets tossed even though it is perfectly fine. Why not take it to someone in need? 

*  There should be a truly universal healthcare system that covers every person on the planet and is paid for by all countries. This way it becomes in our immediate interest to educate people and to prevent disease in countries other than our own. Equal attention should be paid and equal amount of money should be spent on education and prevention as on treatment. Fitness club, yoga & meditation centers should be open and free for all people to use. 

Buried and Still Alive

It was strange being there today with him only a few feet away, lying, eternally sleeping in a closed coffin. He was buried next to his wife. Reunited once again. And all day today, I feel him in the wind that blows through rattles the leafs and makes them sing, I feel him standing next to me, I see him in the laughter of the many children present at the service.

I expect to see him at every corner, in every room. It was strange walking into his room last night. Among the dozens of pictures that leaned against the walls the one of him and my grandmother stared back at me. Funny that I had never really noticed that photo before and now it's the one image associated with his room in my mind. As though the black and white photograph in which they must be in their thirties was ten feet wide and ten feet high. The room seemed uncomfortably small for the two of them sitting, smiling, and gazing back at me.

I spoke at the funeral as the representative of over 100 or so grand children and great grand children. Because I spoke in Farsi, I am including an English translation for those non-Iranian members of my family who may have been wondering what I was talking about:

"Aghajoon [A term of endearment by which we refer to my grandfather] was more than a grandfather to me.
He was my father. I always knew that I could count on his unconditional love and support. When ever I needed him, he was there for me, gave me confidence and power to move forward.
He was my friend. Aghajoon and I could sit and talk for hours without getting tired of each other's company.
He was my teacher. I have learned many valuable lessons from him.

Aghajoon has taught me that I can never allow fear and doubt to come between me and my dreams. Aghajoon lost his own father when he was very young. At the age of 12 he became the breadwinner of his family and had to support not only his mother but also his younger siblings. Despite all the difficulties that he encountered, he always chased and pursued what he wanted and was able to attain many of his goals and dreams.
Aghajoon has taught me that life is full of opportunities and that the only way to become successful is to be ready for these opportunities when they come my way.
He has taught me that to be a successful person, I must first love myself, respect myself, and believe in my own abilities.
He has taught me that through traveling I can increase my knowledge and become a better person for it. He himself loved to travel. He has driven through most of America, Iran, and Europe and visited countless countries.
Aghajoon has taught me that keeping one's body healthy through exercise and by eating the right foods is every person's responsibility in life. Even until a year ago when he got really ill, he'd wake up early every morning and walk for an hour before he started his day.

I have learned from Aghajoon that even in the worst and most difficult circumstances one can bring a smile to his own and other people's lips. Even when he didn't have the energy to talk anymore, he made every word count towards making others smile and laugh. I often found myself in his room trying to hold back tears only to start laughing moments later by a witty comment made by him.

For me, not having him next to me is very difficult.

A few months ago he asked me: When are you getting married so I can stop worrying about you?
I would have loved for him to be around to see me get married...

But, even with all that, I am happy.

Aghajoon: I am happy that you were in my life. I am happy that I have so many wonderful memories with you. I am happy that you have shared your stories with me so that I can take them with me where ever I go.

Aghajoon: I am eternally in love with you. I miss you."

Funeral Services

The Funeral Services for my grandfather, Mohammad Shahrestani, will be held at the location listed below, tomorrow, April 30, 2008 at 9:00AM.

Forest Lawn
4471 Lincoln Avenue
Cypress, CA 90630
714-828-3131

Thank you for being with us and for your email responds.

Ellie

Touched

Death touches us all in life.

Life touches us in death.

Is there a word for someone who loves being alive? "I can control my heart with my mind." he used to say. His heart was weak, his mind strong. Until the very end. The medication weakened his mind, made him forget my face along with his daughters. There was no chance for his heart.

When were you first touched by death?

He used to tell me stories of men who had long since been dead and lived on only in his memories, in his stories, and now in the video tapes that I took while he talked. There is such joy and such sadness in remembering a friend who is no longer alive. The good old days.

I remember my mother speaking at her mother's funeral. Such tenderness in her voice. How could we not cry. The first death she ever witnessed was her own sisters almost a decade earlier. Then another sister, then a mother, now a father.

There is life in death. Waiting to be nurtured and resurrected. We live on with pieces of our dead flowing through our veins, influencing our thoughts, cheering us on.

The bearer of bad news

If you had to hear that someone you loved has died, whom would you designate to be the messenger? Who would you want to hear the new from? How would you want them to word it? Should they ask you to sit down first? Or do you prefer them to just blurt it out?

For the last few months, every time I'd see the phone numbers of those closest to me flash on my call waiting, I automatically and instantly prepared myself for bad news. I'd pick up the phone listening first to the tone of the voice on the other end for clues. Every phone conversation that didn't include the words grandfather and death in the same sentence was a small victory and a tremendous relief.

There is nothing quite as jolting as being caught off guard. The house phone rang. I picked it up, an act that is already out of character for me.
"Alo." I said in a very persian way.
"Hi. I just wanted to give you my condolences."
"For what?"
"Oh you don't know..."
That was a cousin I had not spoke to in a year. Someone I have not interacted with for more than 30 minutes in the past five years.

But what do I do with this information?

These past few days, there was no recognition in his eyes when he looked at me. Perhaps a walk on the beach will help me clear the clutter of emotions and memories that is accumulating in my throat.

One thing is certain: He will be missed greatly.

Tired of Sleeping

There is no doubt about it that he is ill.

He sleeps a great deal these days. It's the medication. Last night he kept wanting to get up as though trying to sleep walk except he can't really walk.

"Grandpa, where you going?" His legs dangling off the side of the bed, his arms shaking, struggling to sit up.
"I don't know." His eyes are glassy, his bottom lip curled in. He looks so old.

Then he'd fall asleep again. We had this same exchange three times. And once he said: "How much longer do I have to sleep?" before falling asleep again. There is no fighting the medication. I'd be tired of sleeping too.

A few days ago, he opened his eyes and asked me why all the women had their arms up in the air. This was day time and he kept dozing off. The medication makes him sleepy. But when he's awake his sense of humor is in tact.
I said: "I don't know. Why do they have their arms up?"
"They are praying."
"Praying for whom?"
"They are praying for themselves."

Then I thought I'd be funny: "Well, you know? There is really two things that women do best. Praying and cooking." Referring of course to my grandmother who was the best cook I've ever known before she passed away only two years ago after 72 years of marriage, 11 children.

"Yea." He said, barely smiling but definitely trying to, "But they learn to pray much faster."
"Did my grandmother know how to cook when she married you?"
"She couldn't even make rice." She was barely 16 when they got married. He was 17 and a self-made business man by then having own a tobacco shop and divorced his first wife of two years only a year earlier. I guess they started early back in his day.
"I taught her everything she knew about cooking." He makes me laugh.

I had to follow it up. He enjoys talking when he has the energy. "So if you taught her how to cook, what did she teach you?"
"Your grandmother has taught me many things." His eyes are glassy again. Does it pain him to think of her? "The problem is, she didn't know any of it either when she was teaching it to me."

I like holding his hands in mine.