Looking up my Past

 Today I realize how horrible it was that my kids lost their father, and that to have a sense of him they needed to be seeing him more than he could while they were with us.  It was a devastating blow to them both, and I know now that they felt devastated.  I don’t know what was better – to be separated but living their own life in his country.  I’m sure he didn’t mean for their world to be as awful as it probably became. Sandra flourished and had their child, but Sadiq didn’t, starting out that his friend’s boat, when it landed in Fiji with all their stuff, was stuck in the harbor.  Sandra never got her manuscript and other stuff was lost. Sandra got a job teaching at a women’s college, but Sadiq kept trying to launch venues that didn’t quite work out.  I believe he became the principal caretaker of Mikal Sa’id Koya.  Sadiq tried but losing the boat and everything meant it was difficult.  I could never see the dilemma as clearly as I do now. They needed their own life, and we didn’t understand what they were aiming for.  The letters kept coming, and one time he even made it to Canada, but there was no ability to get to us.  He kept promising, but six years went by there was no visit.  When he died, suddenly and tragically, He was buried before we could have gotten to them, and our kids didn’t know what to do.  We felt terrible, but we had no sudden ability to go to Fiji, and he was already buried.  Sandra quickly packed up and left, and at five Mikal had no memory of Fiji.  He came back only many years later, right before Ramiza died.  

What can we say about the whole terrible mess?  It was botched.  We can never do it over.  The chance we had to do it over was gone.

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