My parents would have been married 28 years today.
I wonder if I would have truly known my mother’s strength had my dad not been taken away.
Widowed at 27, she shouldered her world so squarely, so boldly. She is my daleela, my minaret.
I turn 27 this year, nowhere near the woman she was then and the woman she is now.
We’ve been here for just over three months and we still haven’t figured out what this framed tapestry on the lounge wall is all about.
I suppose we could ask the landlord but our broken Arabic is guarantee that someone’s decor sensibilities will be offended.
Click the picture to enlarge.
In a glass lightly
Um Ali, the mother of halwayaat
Coffee with chew
Outside Qal3a Qaitbey