no energy, not to check news, not to call anne, not to find out what’s going on in gaza. found out by chance that karme khateeb died this morning morning. during the clashes after the funeral, i overheard bilal say to someone, “haitham’s son”. i turned and said “yes, he’s ill”. bilal said “he’s dead”. he didn’t know he was close to me. that he is a child that i love, very much, and whose health and illness his mother shared a lot with me. neither khawla, nor haitham called me, because of rushdi’s funeral.
karme’s funeral was also today. he died in hospital in his mother’s lap. my baby.
the last time i saw him, he was only bones, it hurt to pick him up, his huge eyes were looked too big for his body and face, he looked like a poster child of some food aid campaign with starving children in africa. he could barely speak. he tried to eat everything i bought, just put it in his mouth and spit out again. after what – two months? i can’t remember – he got out of hospital in quds, for a few days, for 3eid i think, before going back for more of whatever they tried to do there. his father and brother could visit him only after a month, they didn’t have a permit before. no one else from the village or family could. habibi habibi habibi habibi habibi i want to be at two azas at once, i want to be in nabi saleh and bil3in, i want to understand that rushdi was martyred and that karme died, i want to see rushdi’s family continue to live, and i want to see khawla and mohammad and haitham crying, sleeping, cooking, cleaning, washing hands, i want to see that. i want to be nowhere. allah yer7amak habibi ya karmi, mish musadaqa.
and just then mohammad in gaza (the child that survived getting bombed by a drone last ramadan, but whose cousin didn’t) called to say they received leaflets from planes that they shoud leave the area (which is close to what zionists consider the border) and that they didnt know what to do. his father then said they were going to gaza city for a bit, i fell asleep spent, he called me, i couldn’t answer, i imagine he meant to say they arrived.
i hear nariman was in hospital, will see now. feeling numb, sad, too much pain for too many people i love. marah, 12, is watching the video of the day rushdi was shot, from the funeral, reading his last post, and crying while i write this. no idea, no energy to read about what happened in gaza. ya ghazza…
(i’m getting “stay strong” and “take care of yourself” etc messages. thanks everyone but please, PLEASE don’t send me these messages either. i’m ok. it’s the unbearable pain of people i love that hurts, people who needed a break from this piling-up of pain long before rushdi and karmi and abu mustafa and mustafa and…)