31st August has always been so bad for me!
And I’ll tell you why! Please bare with me, I just need to vent..
A. 31st August 1989 at 12:30am: My father passed away that night. He was only 55. Some of you already know that I’m originally from Lebanon. My family and I lived the whole terrible civil war in Lebanon which was between 1974 and 1991. During this war my father survived from two massive explosions on one day near his office where more than 150 people were killed. He survived from a bomb hit our house and my sister got badly injured. He survived from many similar incidents only to die in Jordan when we decided to escape from war. We never escaped from that war until 1989 when we traveled to our relatives in Jordan. My father passed away there. He wasn’t sick, he didn’t feel anything bad that day. On the contrary, he visited his sister, his cousin, his brother and his nephew (who is only 4 years younger than my father so they were buddies growing up). He visited them all in one day like a farewell. On that night he got a heart attack and passed away before we made it to the hospital.
My father wasn’t perfect but he was the kindest ever. He was so compassionate, kind, tender, affectionate. Not only me, but everybody knows him says that.
B. 31st August 1989 at 4:00pm: my grandfather passed away. After the burial of my father on that day, one stupid in law told my grandfather that his son died. My grandfather couldn’t take it. Two hours later, he passed away. He was in his 90’s.
C. 31st August 1995 at 9:15am: my teacher was murdered near his house. He was much more than a teacher to me. He was my mentor.. my second father. Five haters shot him before his children’s eyes. His son who was 4 then got injured during the process.
I miss them all, big time...
I’m sorry, it is not my intention to add some drama here. I just needed to vent out and SW is a good place for that. Thank you all for reading
A. 31st August 1989 at 12:30am: My father passed away that night. He was only 55. Some of you already know that I’m originally from Lebanon. My family and I lived the whole terrible civil war in Lebanon which was between 1974 and 1991. During this war my father survived from two massive explosions on one day near his office where more than 150 people were killed. He survived from a bomb hit our house and my sister got badly injured. He survived from many similar incidents only to die in Jordan when we decided to escape from war. We never escaped from that war until 1989 when we traveled to our relatives in Jordan. My father passed away there. He wasn’t sick, he didn’t feel anything bad that day. On the contrary, he visited his sister, his cousin, his brother and his nephew (who is only 4 years younger than my father so they were buddies growing up). He visited them all in one day like a farewell. On that night he got a heart attack and passed away before we made it to the hospital.
My father wasn’t perfect but he was the kindest ever. He was so compassionate, kind, tender, affectionate. Not only me, but everybody knows him says that.
B. 31st August 1989 at 4:00pm: my grandfather passed away. After the burial of my father on that day, one stupid in law told my grandfather that his son died. My grandfather couldn’t take it. Two hours later, he passed away. He was in his 90’s.
C. 31st August 1995 at 9:15am: my teacher was murdered near his house. He was much more than a teacher to me. He was my mentor.. my second father. Five haters shot him before his children’s eyes. His son who was 4 then got injured during the process.
I miss them all, big time...
I’m sorry, it is not my intention to add some drama here. I just needed to vent out and SW is a good place for that. Thank you all for reading
