karimisms

My dearly beloved Hyphen
I hope this writing arrives
and you are doing well
Totally in charge of millions of people
Totally defining them
I did not have you for the first 18 years of my life
And while they were not empty years
They do not compare with the recent ones
When I did have you
You are actually what I am
I am you and you are mine
Even after my divorce five years ago
You chose to stick it out with me
I truly love you
You bring together two worlds
That are inherently opposed in so many ways
You are a bridge
You mold east and west
You theoretically analyze critical discourse with Diasporic proportions
You mend Olive trees with Azaleas
Hamburgers with shawerma
You connect the songs of Om-Kalthoom
With those of the Greatfull Dead
You make us a people who try to exist in peace
While watching the carnage mount
In our back yard
You allow us to vote
You let us have a voice
You grant us freedom
What is the cost to freedom anyway?
I wonder if I will have you for the rest of time
I wonder if you will be there for me
With your flat, always sleeping body,
When I fall in love again?
And will you let me use you
In my definition of myself?
Will you be there when my 15-year-old-son, Zade,
Accomplishes his dreams of becoming a lawyer,
A senator, and maybe one day the president?
Will you be there when my 11-year-old-son Dury,
Actually changes this world one day
Like I tell him he will do every day of his not-so-complicated life?
Will you be there?
When my seven-year-old angel Demi,
Otherwise known as Sunshine;
Grows up and finds the man of her dreams.
And when I give her away in her wedding
And when sadness and happiness merge together
As I have the first dance with her
And as her little feet rest on top of mine
And as we glide as one?
Will you hang with me as I grow older?
Trying to find peace
In an otherwise extremely fucked up world
Will you be there?
When I try to take my kids to see
The sand lot I grew up playing on in Damascus
With those colorful little marbles?
And as I look for beauty of souls
In otherwise ugly and chaotic surroundings
Will you still define me?
When I become a grandfather
A “Giddo” to seventeen little brats
Who love me more than they love their parents?
Because I will spoil them obsessively
And will you be with me
When I reach the end of the road
Will you go into the grave with me?
Will you be on my tombstone?
Or will you let me be something else
In my lifetime?
My dear little hyphen:
I bid you farewell for now
But just know
That I will always think of you
And if I don’t get to see it,
Please allow my children to revel in peace
Between the two worlds
You are letting them call their own.