By SULAIMAN ADDONIA
I think I have a way of finding out what my father looked like. Yes, finally! Excuse my excitement. My father died when I was very young, and to this day, I have never seen a picture of him. My search for his face goes back to when I lived in a refugee camp in eastern Sudan.
It was around 1977 when we arrived at the camp on camel from Eritrea, then under Ethiopian control and fighting for independence. My father had been murdered, but at 2 years old I had no understanding of the circumstances. Sudan promised a new beginning.
For the next two years, we lived in a hut, and my mother did odd jobs, but it wasn’t enough. She finally found work as a servant in Jeddah, Saudi Arabia, and left us with our grandparents in the refugee camp. I was about 4. Each day afterward, her image became more vague and abstract, just like my father’s. It felt as if I had never had parents.
My mother couldn’t read or write, but she used to record tapes and send them to us. She told us about her life in Jeddah. I would stay in our hut and play the tapes over and over again. I tried to focus on visualizing her face. That was when I started trying to create portraits of both my parents. I imagined my father’s features like mine, with pronounced nose and eyes, and I reinvented my mother’s warm smile. Drawing their pictures in my head, I believed, brought me closer to them.
Then one day, three years after she left, my mother finally sent us a photo of herself. We hung the framed photo on the wall, the only bit of color against the pale mud. Oh, my beautiful mother! I missed her madly.
to continue reading (another 2 minutes), please go to New York Times here
I just needed to say thank you for putting this on your blog this.
I believe every parents love their children.
Thank you for posting this!
Dear Paulo, thank you for sharing the story. This is one of those times where, I feel, yet have no words.
Love to All, Jane xo
hello ,i too missed love in my life .my father died very young ,before he could give me some ideas about life . and a mother who never cared for me ,anda sister who simply kicked me out . i started to dream of love ,angels ,faires,visions,remote places ,well i live in that world . my blog .[lost in the dream ]
i definitely believe that she is going to find a photograph of her father, not an imaginary one.
i once asked mf if i could find all the answers to my questions. and he told me ‘yes, if they are something important for you.’ i believe so too.
father figure is such an important memory for her so definitely she is going to find it one day.
i hope her all the best.
chieko – I believe so too.
I do not want to sound cheezy, but I will tell You a little contemplation of my life. Or a little part of “my story”.
When I lost my grandfather I was devistated. I was a young girl, who had never been able to say in words to her grandfather, that ‘I love You’. For me, it was important. Sure, in the deeds we do and our actions we commit, the love is also shown. But for me, it was devistating that I was not even able to say to him in words, and in person.
So, after he died, I fell in a dark pit of despair. For years, I stayed in it, even though I started to, little by little, to show my love by the actions. And I felt his presence very strongly, at times. My grandfather is my teacher of life, my spiritual guide, even though he is not here, physically.
Some years later, I got to read Paulos books. As I read, I understood that I was on the right ‘path’. I was starting to become open to life, led by love. It also occured to me, that there was a resemblance between them. Both in their views/beliefs of life, but also visual image (even though the first years reading Paulos books, I didn’t even know what he looked like, because at that time they did not print the picture of the author on the books, here.). So, in a way, I lost my grandfathers visual image – not in my mind, but he, being in a physical body, here, close to me. Nevertheless he remained as a spiritual guide. Yet, by stumbling ‘accidentally’ upon Paulos books, I “recieved/gained Paulo”, as an visual image, and a second spiritual guide. (Even though in this case I know that he excsists physically in this world, and I have seen him in picture/video, although I have never even met him eye to eye. Only his holograms. Lol. And some look-a-likes of other people in this blog.)
Sometimes a simple knowledge and gaining a possibility as such can be as healing as an answer to a question. Because we seek answers, either conciously or not.
But I found consolation in this happening.
And I knew I could go on in my life, after recieving the answer that I needed to recieve.
(We all have different signs and answers to our ponderings.)
Be well, Chieko.
(Paulo, I’m sorry if this offends You, or if You think that I may be making this up, or if it may be annoying for You to hear such things, but I had to share this. And especially, because this is how I felt/feel and how my brain and heart explained it to me. I am a stranger, who is trying to explain the connection how Your dream has helped mine – Your writing. And even if I understand that it may not mean a thing to You,(and even if it is so) it still means a great deal to me. And I know that there are thousands, millions, who have had some connection. I’m not the only one. And after saying this – this connection – through Your work – was what I needed. It is not essential for me (anymore) to see You in person. Although if it would happen, it would be nice. Truth shall set us free! Thanks.)
The whole point of my story was – we get our answers. Not always in the form that we wished them to appear as, but there will be an answer. But to get to that answer, we have to look for it, with open eyes and hearts.
Love to all of You, wonderful people,
L.
dear Liina,
thank you for sharing your story. i love it. i like all kinds of stories but i especially like personal stories because they touch me so much.
you have such a wonderful grandfather, who has something common regarding life wisdom. it really touches me when thinking about a little girl wishing to say just i love you. it is so sweet and moving. beautiful soul.
i liked your comment below too. i feel the same way.
i like those who are walking the path because i am one of them too:)
thanks again for your story.
love + blessings
chieko
Dear Liina,
well, i have been thinking about your comment for a while…the resemblance between your grandpa and Paulo…
i was reading Brida (have you read?) yesterday and stopped at somepoint and thought about your comment.
‘…you were part of her. other people might well have the same memory as you.’ (this scene comes after some sort of magic: maybe dream therapy or hypnotherapy. )
and if it is true (i kind of believe it is true), part of your grandpa and part of Paulo could be the same. so i really think what you are feeling is true. and for me i sometimes see part of Paulo in mb. i feel like he is teaching me the same thing written in Paulo’s book in a different way even though he has not yet read one.
so we really are everywhere? so if we are everywhere, at some point, we have to look for the origin to get inspired, right? i would like to know what it really looked like. i mean, we are divided into many individuals, right? and we are a bit diluted, right? so i am curious to know what was actually in there. i want to know true form of love and sex too. what is the original meaning of love? what about sex? i would like to know about sex at least because it is kind of important for me. i also would like to know limitation too though it is not really necessary for me to know. oh, reading Brida, i remember i also want to know how to awaken the gifts. because according to Wicca, without it we can only know minor mysteries…
…sorry it is kind of long and confusing for you…i am not trying to bombard you with questions…sorry, i am just curious…
anyway, thanks for your comment. i really like it.
love + blessings
chieko
ps. have you seen your grandpa in your dream? i actually had a dream, after i prayed for her love and protection, in which my grandma gave me a deep french kiss! it was so deep that i almost suffocated! haha
http://video.aol.co.uk/video-detail/eric-clapton-my-fathers-eyes-live-version/1411723392
watch eric and his archery’s arsenal, striking his chords for us to hear, look towards the end at the interraction between the players..no words are needed …just intuition at its best; watch how well synch they all are when playing the music only.It is pure ecstasy.
Follow the signs.
This article reminded me of how I tried to find out how Jesus Christ looked like.
Since my bedroom is my heaven, my dreams always help me to find miracles & the divine beauty of life. So, once walking through my dreams, I ”discovered” the face of God.
—
Jesus appeared to Mary Faustina Kowalska (a Polish nun) as the King of Divine Mercy. Every time I look at the Divine Mercy image painted by Adolf Hyla, I can happily say: YES! Here He is – the Man I’ve seen for more times. Always calm and peaceful. Never boring, but often joyful. A Master among Masters.
The Mercy of God —> Day of Atonement – the holiest day of Jewish year (Yom Kippur).
—
Oct 2 also is the International Day of Non-Violence.
By the way, have you noticed that Minnie Mouse has on a red POLKA dotted dress? You may guess, why. :)
http://www.arims.org.il/pcomp01.htm
The JURY. The First Rubinstein Competition.
LOVE,
Thelma xxx
He will smile and be proud for you from above… <3
precious photo
Thank you
Love and Graditude
Swannie
We always carry our loved ones in our heart and mind! We visualize them and see them smiling to us..
Kazantzakis has said: WE ARE ALIVE AS LONG AS THERE IS SOMEONE REMEMBERING US!
When I was a child the first thing that I bought after saving some money was a Grundig Tape Recorder. Then an expensive Praktika Photo Camera! The recorder for recording my piano and the voices of my loved ones.. I was the only student who had a … photo camera at 11 years old! The only one taking photos at our parades, feasts.. Then the photos from my life as a student in Vienna. The first coloured photos. The albums of my children in every phase.. I have always been ’secretly’ in love with my piano Prof. Dieter Weber, in Vienna. He died in 1976 and I did not have any photo of him, but I could ’see’ him always sitting near me while I was playing the piano. Two years ago, when I bought my lap-top and was connected to the Internet I tried to find a photo of him. I wanted to .. refresh my memory and ’see’ him with my eyes now that I am old. I have just found one a precious photo, for me, to keep his memory and him, alive, for as long as I live.
LOVE,
Thelma xxx
The quote made me remember one story from the book ” Be like a flowing river”, it was about an skeleton found in pyjamas after twenty years of his passing away. How hard is to imagine that there can be noone to remember us for such a long period of time.
I loved the story about your piano teacher. It made me think I won’t have any photo of my soulmate when I want to refresh my memory.
Love
Hoja and the End of the World
A group of philosophers travelled far and wide to find, and
contemplated for many years, the end of the world but could not state
a time for its coming. Finally they turned to Nasreddin Hoja and
asked him:
- Do you know when the end of the world will be?
- Of course, said he, when I die, that will be the end of the world.
- When you die? Are you sure?
- It will be for me, said he.
This story of Nasrudin Hoja was told to me by my father when I was a small child. I liked all his stories for the ‘dry’, ‘cut’ humour, full of wisdom and optimism.
LOVE,
Thelma xxx
Lovely story. Your father must be a very wise man.
Blessings
Thank you for sharing the story Mamma
yes, that’s the end of the world… of a world… and that reminds me of The Winner is Alone… for me a precious book too!
love you
Love and Graditude
Swannie
An amazing story of love of one families strength and courage and horrific pain and loss.Hearing his mothers voice on tape made Solaimans’ sadness disappear and the power of their love and bond and their imagination kept their relationship real.I am adopted and would like to see a photo of my natural father whom I never met and he is dead now. I did meet my birth mother as a child and when I 33 years of age I met her again after 14 yrs -when I walked into the room she was in ,she exclaimed ‘You are the image of your father’ she seemed really shaken by how I was the image of him.My natural mother and I had a truclent relationship (she was a stranger to me whom I did’t like,I was a daughter to her who she loved and she tended to blame me for her sad life and laid guilt firmly at my feet)She had a distorted love for me and in hand writen letters from her she said I should have beeen aborted. She raged when I asked to see photo of my father,and said you don’t want me around and you want to see him.He was nicknamed ‘The Greek’(we’re Irish) but he was so dark haired as I am.
We did eventually meet his brother and he acknowledged me and thought I looked like the Greek!!
and in particular my son Kealan looked liked the Greek also.The wife of this brother sneaked a picture of my father to me-it was tiny black and white photo -I couldn’t make out his features,but treasured the photo all the same.A year or two later I tried to make contact with my natural father but he refused to talk to me and I torn up the tiny photo.It it not a story of love and bonding with my natural parents!!! love Breda I plan to read Salaimans life story
Breda,
If you really think about it, you do have a loving father who is there for you, and all you have to do is pray to him. :-)
Love peace and warm light,
Lainee
Thank You Elaine for your kind thoughts and words,
Love,
Breda
I fully understand your story because I remember my mother used to make us feel guilty about something only my father was to blame. I look like my father and for a long time I’d have prefered that it not be so. I also had a difficult relationship with my father. We idn’t get along well, maybe because we were so similar. What I want to share with you is that despite that I understood there was no point in blaming my parents or feeling myself guilty over anything. Too much waste of energy. I learnt to accept people the way they are and to forgive them not because it did good to them , but mainly because it did good to me. Once you forgive, all those negative feelings dissapear and your soul gets light, free from resentment.
Lots of love.
Adriana
“With the first light of sun
Bless you
When the long day is done
Bless you
In your smiles and your tears
Bless you
Through each day of your years
Bless you.”
Dear Martha,
Thank you for your kind words and lovely prayer ,
Love,
Breda
THAT’S SO TOUCHING! MADE MY EYES MOIST. I THINK, THE IMAGE THAT WE KEEP OF OUR LOVED ONES IN OUR HEART IS MORE IMPORTANT THAN THE ACTUAL IMAGE HANGING ON THE WALL.
Sometimes a momento is all that we have
as a record of OUR truth
when all else has changed
and we feel lost within that
then a photo is the light
reflecting back at us
smiling with hope and promise.
Reading again the article I remembered a part of
“Pericles’ Funeral Oration”
(a famous speech that was given by the Athenian leader Pericles after the first battles of the Peloponnesian war).
It is a classic statement of the value of democracy…
Refering to the sons of the dead he says…
“Turning to the sons or brothers of the dead, I see an arduous struggle before you. When a man is gone, all are wont to praise him, and should your merit be ever so transcendent, you will still find it difficult not merely to overtake, but even to approach their renown. The living have envy to contend with, while those who are no longer in our path are honoured with a goodwill into which rivalry does not enter.”
And refering to the perents…
“…And sorrow is felt at the want of those blessings, not which a man never knew, but which were a part of his life before they were taken from him.”
I would like to be able to post you all this masterpiece of Pericles because includes great ideas!!! If someone is interesting can search it and read it in google (“Pericles’ Funeral Oration”.)
This story is so touching, but the worst thing is knowing that such things still remain a reality to some people. That their life is that way.
And that’s because human treats human like insects or toys, without considering the lifes and the victims left behind their crimes.
You’re so right that it hurts.
Love
Just as happens in my country, with slide differences. People go to work abroad, for years, and leave their kids alone, with relatives. The kids suffer so much, that many of them commit suicide, is already an emergency. When we will live in a world where happiness is all around?
All around? In this life?
Unfortunately I don’t think it might be possible Alexandra. There it will always something wrong, as long as we all learn to love at least.
Love
Olta
21 December, 2012? As good a time as any.
http://www.calleman.com/content/articles/nov8_sixth_night.htm
http://www.facebook.com/group.php?gid=14945078678
it’s a bit “spacy”, but who knows
We are not our past, but I think it does define us to a certain degree. I’ve lost people I love. Woken up and they are gone. So now I weep for the memory of them, and for Sulaiman and his brother and sister and his mother, and all who have known this kind of loss.
A fine way to honour his father’s memory I think.
I completely agree. The past made you the person you are, you shouldn’t live in it, but be able to look back at it joyfully and without bitterness. No matter how hard it was. I think people should thank God specially for hardships because it is them which teach how to fight.
Father
Sister
Mother.
Holy Trinity!
This reminds me of my father being sought by masked guerrila who wanted the rifle he kept in the house. We saw them coming carrying guns and closed the doors, but they got in the house through the back door. Fortunately, they had pity on us and seeing our father was not there, left the house heading towards the other street and killed a man who was supposed to be an insider of the dictatorial guards. I have the feeling had my father been there he would have been killed. We thanked God, the National Guard didn’t realize they were in our house. It was the time of terror, torture and dissapearances.
Impermanence…
Humbles one.
Grateful we,
having had a nurturing father in our lives,
should be.
Caress him or his picture.
Love.
Caress family every moment.
Impermanence…
I could sense all the excitement of finding that way of drawing the father’s picture.. such a heartbreaking story.. it is like the father’s image is the lost piece to move on, the root the flower is hanging on to live and grow.. I think the father’s picture in the end will bring much peace back.. because to the mind of the story teller it is now like a ghost.. that was what I felt…
Thank you for addressing this article today <3
Love and Graditude
Annie
How many stories like this one could be cause wars? It’s a very sad story and unfortunately is not unique. I hope some day Sulaiman finds something that brings peace to her heart.
From a song ‘Where You Are’, a part of a takeout ‘A BREATH AWAY’S NOT FAR, FROM WHERE YOU ARE.’
Love,
L.
God I miss my parents after reading this. Want to hold the writers hands.
This is life, good or bad times, happy or sad days, the goal is one.
This is to us dear Hope. To never forget how lucky we are to have them. To love them and enjoy our time with them as long as we can because they will not be with us during all our life.
Love
Olta
Yes dear Olta, if someone have, shuold be thankful like be thankful for anything else in life! In my case, I did not have parents from age of 12 I think. Anyway long time ago :) And I am thankful for losts and founds in my life, always :)
Dear Hope I’m sorry to know that, but happy to know that you have parents now.
I feel in every comment that you do or reply that In your soul you are and believe in your name that I can see there Hope. It is your name, right ?
Love
Olta
This sentence popped in my head: Who doesn’t remember the past, will have no future.
I do not really agree with this Liina, I think we have to forget the past for good, leave it all behind.. as it is behind…
Love and Graditude
Annie
A wise person once said to me “Never look back , always look forward.” I always remember these words when thoughts of the past come to “haunt’ me.
And now another wise person says that to me ;o) Thank you dear Theresa <3 I will try to have it in mind too, so that the past understand what I mean when I say ‘Goodbye’
Love and Graditude
Annie
I think both is true forgetting and remembering the past, but for different situations: There is no point in trying to live in the past. It is gone. The present moment is important.
But sometimes life is teaching us important lessons, knowledge we might need in order to continue on our path. If we miss out on such a lesson than our past will haunt us. In that case it is important to remember, understand and learn first. And than use the acquired knowledge to move forward.
Love,
Petra
Dear Liina,
I would agree better in this one, ‘the past is there to help the future’.
We don’t need to hold on it but it is needed to look after the future and make it better. As we can’t fix the past we can write a new better story…:)
But maybe there is something else that you meant with that Liina ?
Great thought, Olta Ana, about past being there to help the future. I agree with it totally – past is there to help us understand many things: how to mature, how not to go on, how to go on… whatever.
Petra described it well, too. Not to LIVE in past, but to acknowledge it. That does not equal in living in past, though. We live as we wish to live, but we all remember our past. Does that mean we all live in past? ;)
Forgetting past, or accepting past and moving on, are two different things. I did not suggest living in the past, but remembering/accpeting it. :)
Love,
L.
I thought that too Liina that’s why I asked.
Love
Olta
A nice story, if You can name a sad story about a life full of rough starts, questions, mistreatment and challenges nice. But there was a goal, to pursue, before a person can set on to a new life – to find the picture, the visual image of a lost father. It worked for me, well written, nice to read. There was an interesting poing, all through the story it was mainly described by the view of this child, person. But in one part of the text it was described through his lost fathers eyes, which he did not remember. For some reason, that fact popped out for me… even though I guess in the story it was rather irrelevant?!
But is it fictional or a part of this persons life story?
The Zahir of Sulaiman Addonia (or of the fictional character?) – the picture of two childrens father and their mothers husband. The piece of a puzzle.
Do we always need the real image?
The image from the heart, to me, did not sound bad, even if he did not know what the mother looked like, for real.
I guess when things are existential, and when our existence depends on it, we need proof, we need image to let us conclude matters, to move on. We need a piece of our past, the one we were held off from, taken away from.
Yet all that’s alive changes. Images change.
I guess our minds make them frozen in some way. When we have lost someone, we will remember them by a certain image, wether visual or descriptive by nature/views/ideas/beliefs/personality. Past.
Be well.
Oh golly
the rest of the man’s story is sadder.
What a dilemma for the father of the boy to have made..
yet one instinctive.
but what a great idea to resketch that face of his father.. i am sure it will be possible.
Last week, my mother unpacked all the photo albums from storage [after moving back from USA].
I LOVE these albums.
in fact, i have made it very very clear to her that
they are the most important items of hers.
That is because of my parents divorce..
and of the trauma we suffered before that divorce.
To me..
those photographs are the only images i have of THAT time when my father and mother were married…
when WE were a family UNIT.
I was so young …
and so photos remain important memories and reminders of who i am.. who we were.. where i come from..
how life can be… how we made our life..
how we loved.
I would be lost without those images…
they speak and reach out to me.
I spent an afternoon just looking through these albums..
of our lives in Saudi…happy times..
of my brother’s life before i was born… when they were living.. in Ethiopia.
i always thought we would return to put the puzzle together…after our trauma..
but it didn’t happen..
and so, now… i have these momentos..
to remind me
of the old faces of my parents,
my brother..
even MY old face
before the rain fell down ;o/
Hi Paulo.
I’m really interested by why you posted this article.
It speaks to me on many levels.
I was born in 77
and..at 3 months old.. moved to Saudi Arabia with my mum and brother…to live there for over 2 years
we joined my father who worked as a geologist in Saudi.
My father, even today still lives abroad
at long periods at a time.
Right now he is in Sudan.
but often he is in Ethiopia.
Othertimes, it has been Egypt, Afghanistan, Jordan…
It has always been this way.
When growing up [after age 6] i barely saw my father when he was living in the Middle East.
i have these memories
of brief [erratic] visits…
joyful moments..
in between
long distances
of him being
away.
;o)
I wished it otherwise..
but my wish
never came true.
Even today
i wish he
were home
in Scotland
safe and sound
where i can see him, live
near him.
Only this week..
i have been thinking
quite a lot
about how much these circumstances
have affected my life
and who i am
how i see, know, live
and love.
but it is with “the heart that one sees rightly”
no?
Even if I can’t see him daily or smile with him
face to face
everyday…
I have come to realise that
i can HEAR him…
though there are miles and miles between us.
I can FEEl him…
even though there is this distance filled by land and seas.
So.. in a way, I can SEE him..
Thankyou for sharing the article.
Everyday, i live in a world
where
i feel the odd one out
.. because of a father who is far away..
i sometimes question..
how can i relate?
how do i exist when he is so far away?
but, as your other news article
.. on UN men for women’s rights
illuminates…
Because he loves me, he is never THAT far away ;o)xxx
Thanks for telling us about your joys and heartache of having a long distance relationship with your Dear Father : )
(PS I Love Scotland and have consider moving to work and live there!!)
Absolutely heartbreaking… such horror people go through.. and still find ways to keep strength and love alive
Love
A very moving story.