Two years ago today you left us and this world. Not a day has gone by that I haven’t thought about you or missed you. For many you might have seemed to be an ordinary man, doing everyday ordinary things, but to me you were an extraordinary person. You were the greatest dad a girl could ever wish for. We were not rich, we never were rich, and yet you managed to give me everything I needed, all I wanted.
You always showered me with presents. Even when I was in the dorms in University. You never came empty handed. No matter how small or meaningless your gifts seemed to others they always made my heart swell with joy. I even became the envy of my roommates in the dorm. But mostly you showered me with your care and understanding and unconditional love. And you never judged me.
You taught me to be a good person and try to always live my life with dignity and integrity. You taught me never to be afraid to tackle difficult tasks and never to give up. And when I brought Vahe home to meet you for the first time, you were so happy. You found all those qualities in him too, as you later told me he was a true gentleman. Yes he was one of a kind.
After we got married and moved to Dubai, things got even worse in Lebanon. You traveled every Sunday to Damascus to talk with me on the phone. There were no telephone lines in Lebanon. There was no postal service either. You did this every Sunday even though it was your only day off. You did this for me and for you for more than a decade. Until well after the civil war was over, until it was possible to have a phone at home. Nothing brought me more pleasure than to hear your voice at the time and know that you were all safe and sound.
We might not have seen eye to eye sometimes, we might not have agreed on some things but you were always there for me no matter what. I just want to say you were the greatest dad, and an even better grandfather to your grandkids. You were my rock, until Vahe came along and you both became my rock. And I became a stronger person.
I could go on and on talking about you dad. But I am hurt and in pain because who would have thought that Vahe would leave this world too, and only a year after you. Certainly not I, not us. I like to believe that you are taking care of him somehow. That you are together somewhere, maybe right now having a drink like you used to, and together both of you are watching over us.
I miss hearing your voice dad, I miss hearing you say, “God is great and everything will be okay.” God only knows how I need to hear those words from you now. The world is never the same without the two of you in it. I will always love you both and forever miss you.
May you both Rest in Peace and may your memories guide me to be there for my kids the way you were for me, for us.