HERITAGE

It is dark and quiet in the plane. We are descending towards Philadelphia. Our sad journey began at nine this morning and probably will not end until eleven tonight. But, that is the easy part. The hard part is to enter the house on Rexford Rd. How can we step into your house Ezat Jon knowing that you will not be there to greet us with your cheerful, kind, and lively face, and your traditional three kisses on the cheek? How can we enter the house without your friendly smile and big welcome? My heart is aching for the good old days when the house was filled with life, warmth, laughter, and love. As your soul slowly left us over the past few years, the house also grew darker and darker, succumbing to a slow decline. Will your spirit continue to live there? You were the one who gave energy to us all; we were all better and happier because of you. You were the magnet that kept all of us close.

My heart goes out to Miriam Joon as she must deal with the void left by the passing of her husband of 54+ years. I wish her strength as she navigates her life without her beloved husband. Will she be alright? I certainly hope so. I am sure when you first met her in Chicago in the 1950s, you did not know that you were falling in love with an angel. Even though life was not kind to you in the last decade, you were fortunate to be placed under the tender loving care of an angel who was your constant companion and nurse in the last eight years. Miriam Joon and Bahman were the loving and caring curators of Iran’s living national treasure.  They are both a hundred times worthy of every praise that one can bestow on loving, kind, and selfless human beings, and more. They are both truly one of a kind. Their love and devotion to you was indeed exemplary and remarkable.

Tomorrow is the day that you will be buried. It is difficult to articulate it, harder to even think of leaving you alone under a pile of dirt at the cemetery, and returning to your home, which will be so empty without your presence. You spent a good part of your life in search of the buried national treasures of Iran, but now, you, a designated Iranian national treasure, will actually be buried yourself. I am saddened by the irony of it. However, no one will have to search for you since your final resting place will be known forever to all who loved, respected, and cherished you as a great human being, son, brother, husband, father, grandfather, father-in-law, uncle, cousin, friend, and a superb scholar, teacher and mentor.

I am heartbroken that I did not get an opportunity to say farewell to you for the last time before you took your last breath. I had commissioned Mehrdad to kiss the top of your head many times on my behalf once he got to your bedside at the hospital. That had become my favorite spot to kiss ever since you were confined to a sitting position in a wheelchair and were no longer taller than me. It was also shiny, free of hair and soft with some skin discoloration due to having spent years in the sun on the many archeological excavations around Iran.  That piece of skin resembled a part of Iran’s landscape and was a testimony to your lifelong service to your beloved homeland. There was so much I wanted to share with you. I had not told you enough times how much I loved you and how proud and honored I was and am to be your daughter-in-law. I always felt that we had a special bond and relationship, and truly loved you as my own father.

I had never met anyone with such passionate love for Iran and every inch of its land. Your knowledge of Iran’s rich history was fascinating. I loved to listen to you talk about Iran, its history, and your experiences during the excavations, etc.  My long-held dream was to travel through Iran in a minibus with the rest of our family under your direction and guidance, to visit all the hidden and well-known treasures and historical sites of Iran that you knew about, to listen to you educating us about the history behind each and every of one them, and to learn a long overdue lesson on our nation’s past glories and misfortunes. Unfortunately, my dream never materialized due to the deterioration of your health.

You were Iran, and Iran was you. Your love for Iran was so deep that it could not be affected by the changes in Iran’s political, social, or economic environment. The Iran you cherished was above the mundane contemporary upheavals and struggles. You had faith in Iran and its perseverance. You were indeed a proud son of Iran who spent a lifetime uncovering its past glories and improving its present international position in the field of archeology. I am not going to talk about your contributions and accomplishments as the father of Iran’s modern archeology since it has already been extensively written about. I just wanted to tell you that I cannot think of Iran and not think of you, and that I share and appreciate your love for our homeland.

Arman’s arrival made you a grandfather for the third time. When we brought him home from the hospital, you took a long look at him and said, “He has come to tell us it is time for us to leave.” That was nineteen years ago. In the meantime you had five more grandchildren, one boy and four girls. I am glad that your prediction did not turn out to be accurate and the arrival of grandchildren did not hasten your departure.

Forgive me for being a rebellious teenager by not agreeing to wear white to my wedding and disappointing your traditional values and expectations. Forgive me for being a bad cook in the early days and serving you mushy “lubia polo” which you graciously ate and said that it was exactly the way you liked it - thank you for saving my face then. Thank you for taking gifts for me to Iran many times even though you preferred to travel light. Thank you for buying us used cars while we were college students. Thank you for being kind and friendly to my parents in Iran during your annual visits. Thank you for being such a good role model for us and for our children. Thank you for believing in me, for accepting me with all my faults and above all, for your unconditional love, respect, and kindness during the past twenty nine years. Thank you with all my heart. I could not have had a better father-in-law. I have been truly privileged to have had such parents-in-law and love you both dearly.

Ezat Jon, it was unfortunate that such a great, decent human being like you had to suffer so much in the last few years of his life. It was heart wrenching to see you in a wheelchair, incapable of walking, using your hands, reading and writing, or having meaningful conversations. Those capable hands that had unearthed such valuable objects during the archeological excavations in Iran, those artistic fingers which had produced such beautiful Persian calligraphy (some of which are adorning our walls), those strong legs which had travelled through Iran in search of the buried national treasures, and that brilliant mind which could recite hundreds of lines of Persian poetry, one by one, became dysfunctional.  It was indeed very difficult to see you stripped of all your greatness towards the end. You deserved so much better.

Ezat Jon, I am honored to have known you personally since the age of eighteen. Thank you for enriching my life and the lives of our children with your gentleness, knowledge, optimism, wisdom, kindness, patience, compassion, dignity, composure, pride, and love.  For as long as we live, we will never forget you, and your memory will be cherished in our hearts forever. I will always remember you as the personification of a true gentleman.

Khoshaa anan keh bar in arsse-ye khaak
Cho khorshidi derakhshidand-o raftand

Khnoshaa anan keh dar mizaan-e vojdaan
Hessab-e khish sanjidand-o raftand

Khoshaa aanan keh bazr-e aadamiyat
Dar in viraaneh paashidand-o raftand