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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.
Posted at 10:25 PM in Art, Family | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBack (0)
Technorati Tags: Elmo in hot air balloon, Green Hills, Mural
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.
Posted at 02:05 PM in Death, Family, Life, Relationships | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBack (0)
Technorati Tags: 102 year old persian man, long healthy life
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.
Posted at 04:02 AM in Current Affairs, Family, Life, Television | Permalink | Comments (2) | TrackBack (0)
Technorati Tags: Gay lesbian marriage, Proposition 8, same sex marriage
Posted at 02:56 AM in Current Affairs, Family, Life | Permalink | Comments (1) | TrackBack (0)
Technorati Tags: charity, ideas for world peace, universal healthcare
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."
Posted at 04:08 PM in Death, Family, Life | Permalink | Comments (1) | TrackBack (0)
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
Posted at 03:46 PM in Death, Family, Life | Permalink | Comments (1) | TrackBack (0)

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.
Posted at 12:50 PM in Death, Family, Life, Relationships | Permalink | Comments (2) | TrackBack (0)

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.
Posted at 08:53 PM in Family, Relationships | Permalink | Comments (1) | TrackBack (0)
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.
Posted at 03:59 PM in Family, Health, Relationships | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBack (0)
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