To my Dad Ahmad Hardi
My father was a Kurdish poet.
The greatest gift you could give my dad was pencil and paper. I remember when he came to visit me in 1995 I took him to Barnes and Noble (large book store in the U.S.). Even though he was not fluent in English he went through every aisle in the store. He would pick up a book open it up would read a few words then put it back down. The happiest I have ever seen my dad is when he was surrounded by books.
After we spent four hours in Barnes and Noble, we left with 5 pens and 2 note books. My dad loved good writing pens with blue ink and always had to have blank paper next to him. whether he was sitting on a chair or lying in his bed, his pen and paper were always close by. On the way home he would pick up the note book flip through the blank pages and feel the thickness of the paper look at me and say “this is good paper” then he would put it back down and reach inside his black suit coat and pull out the pens and would say “ I think I am going to like these pens“.
All that evening he paced the living room admiring the pen and paper I bought him. As it got closer to bedtime he slowly walked over to where I was sitting touched my cheek with his two wrinkled fingers gave me a smile of approval and said “thank you Mr. Hardi thank you.”
I loved seeing him happy.
Today is one year since you have left us. I can picture you up there in heaven leaning over your pillow with your blue ink pen underlining an article from Awene newspaper.
I wonder if they provide good Pen and Paper up in heaven?
Not a day goes by when I do not think of you.
If you care to share a memory or a picture of my dad with me please email me at firstname.lastname@example.org