Oh My God! That smile!

Dearest reader,

As I write this, I am seated next to the heater, lights are dimmed, there is a teapot nearby and the TV is on the news, yes, the news. My son is fast asleep, close by.

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On that note, for the first time my baby boy smiled to me today. Not the smile while he is asleep, not the one after he drinks his milk, but the smile with eye contact, the one that says “Daya I am happy!” Oh My God! That smile! With his smile my heart melted away. With his smile I forgot labour, birth and all the sleepless nights, with his smile I forgot the world and its pains. 

His smile took me away somewhere over the rainbows, it took me to la-la land.I danced, sang and played like a little child just to please him enough to show me his smile, once more. Oh My God! That smile! Videos and pictures are already in the phones of his grandparents, aunts, and uncle! I have replayed the 8 second video a good thousand times since he has gone to sleep. Just remembering it now makes the warmth of the heater I’m sitting by even warmer. 

I remember my son’s smile, then turn up to the television screen only to see images of explosions, bombs, terrorists, bloodshed, fighters and weapons. He can see clearly now, I have to be careful what he observes from our television screen. Then again, till when can I control this?

I am a mother now. I feel the pain of my grandmothers, both of whom have sons martyred.

Because I can never have enough of my son’s smell, hugs and kisses;  I feel every mother’s struggle as she kisses and hugs her Peshmerga son goodbye as he goes on mission–not knowing whether she will have him in her arms once more.

Because I wake up at night just to make sure my son is still breathing, I can picture a Kurdish mother not daring to place her head on the pillow, fearing the news of her son’s death when she wakes up.

Because the smile of my son has become the happiness of my life, I can’t bare the thought of a mother seeing her son in pain, in tears or even worse losing his life.

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One of Kurdistan’s recent martyrs

I have always been hurt by the images I see, the stories I read and the overall situation of our Region, and in fact, our world today. However, now, my emotions are different. My heart is grilled every time a single Kurdistani suffers.

I wished when I have children of my own, they will open their eyes in a peaceful world, haven’t we as Kurds already given enough blood of martyrs? Was the fight of our fathers and grandfathers not enough? When will we be left alone to live… to live in peace, to live without having a mother fearing the loss of the sight of her son’s smile?

With love from My Nest in Kurdistan

Sazan,

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