Seneca once said that life is like a story:
it does not matter how long it is but how good it is.
Your life too short, your end too untimely but the story is so GOOD, so worth listening to, so worth being retold over and over again. The story will never be forgotten and will always live among us because it is you. I can hear Mai telling Hannah and her baby sister this story over and over again and the baby will just fall in love with the sweet grandma that is only a story.
You are a story of love, of sacrifice, of continuous giving; and also a story of joy and many happy moments. A story that Mai’s house tells out loud, the little nicknacks that you have selected, not only with care, but with love, the colors, the designs….. they all cry out your pride in the little girl who quickly became a bride. You told me you had done better with Amira and I believe you because of your perception and ability to pile up experiences and use them well. You even wanted to help with Randa’s house but she aborted the dream of building a home in Cairo.
I personally have many stories and many special moments that many envy me for, and a few can compete with. These start with the 13 year old kid who walked into your house and became part of your family and you escorted him down the road of Mathematics and is now a successful young man who never forgets your favors. This was the beginning of a lifelong friendship, or rather a sisterhood that was not interrupted despite the ups and downs of life and the distances that held us apart.
The terrace in Marina holds many memories of the long joyful nights we spent in laughter; times that were even made nicer by your warm hospitality, your oriental recipes and generous invitations. I recall these days and my feelings are a mixture of gratitude that we shared those happy moments, and sorrow because they are no more.
I remember our worries when we were introducing our husbands to each other and wishing they would like one another and when they did, we rejoiced because it confirmed our closeness and meant we could share intimate moments. You considered us family and when I attended Amira’s ketab, or the Eid’s special lunch, I knew I was in the holy of holies of this beloved family and all because of you.
I cannot imagine how many good memories you are leaving behind to your family, friends, colleagues and the many generations you have taught. We are all bubbling with stories to tell: stories of love, of hard work, and of kindness. You were a role model to Mai, Amira and Mohamed and to thousands of students in whom you took a genuine interest and cared for their success.
I can hear Azza and Elham as they tell these stories. Azza shared many small incidents that have touched her life and were memorable in spite of the years.
Sad as I am that I have not been by your side the last few days, I feel that you are here. Your face shines on me and your spirit is here to comfort me. I hear your voice.
Rest in peace sweet sister and I promise you that these immortal stories will live forever.