Daughter of Sheena (25)

Behnaz Zarrabizadeh

Daughter of Sheena-25
Memories of Qadamkheyr Mohammadi Kanaan
Wife of Sardar Shaheed Haj Sattar Ebrahimi Hajir
Memory writer: Behnaz Zarrabizadeh
Tehran, Sooreh Mehr Publications Company, 2011 (Persian Version)
Translated by Zahra Hosseinian

The first few days it was very hard for me to tolerate everything, but gradually I got used to this situation.
Samad was confined to bed ten days in the hospital. Asking our next door neighbor to look after Khadija and Masumah at every early morning, I would go to the hospital and stay beside Samad until noon. I would come back home at noon, take care of my babies a little and eat lunch. Again, in the afternoon, I would ask another neighbor to look after my babies and go to hospital to take care of Samad till night.
One day babies bothered me very much. I did everything but they wouldn’t calm. It was eleven o'clock and still I had not gone to the hospital. The doorbell was rung. I saw a friend of Samad behind the door as I opened it. He said hello smilingly and continued: “Mrs. Ibrahimi! Spread the bedclothes of Mr. Samad and cook Qeymaq for him, we’ve brought him home.”
Happily I peeped to the alley. Samad was in the car. In fact, he lay back on two of his friends’ leg. He smiled and shook his hand as he saw me. With a smile and gesture I greeted him, and ran toward room to spread his bedclothes.
By noon his friends stayed and teased him. They talked and laughed and joked until noon Adhan. Then they got up to go. Giving me two nylon bag of medicine, they described the instruction and hour of taking medication, and went.
Samad said: “Bring babies here, I missed them so much.”, when they went.
I brought babies and asked them to sit down next to him. Khadija and Masumah were stranger to him. But Samad just caressed and made a face for them, so they remembered that this skinny and weak man is their father.
The next days after, friends and acquaintances would come to our house to visit Samad. Samad was upset about this condition. He would say he’s not content himself that families moved off from village to come here just to visit him. Because of this, a few days later he said: “Let’s go to Qayesh. I fear something happen for them in the way, and then I can’t forgive myself.” I packed babies’ hold-alls and got ready to go. Samad neither could hug babies, nor carried their hold-alls. He could not even drive. I hugged Masumah and wanted Khadija to toddle. I carried hold-alls too. We reached to terminal and went on the minibus with such difficulties. Arriving to Razan, we had to get out minibus and get on another car. To reach to Qayesh minibuses I displaced hold-alls on my shoulders hundred times. I put Masumah on the ground and again I hugged her. Taking Khadija’d hand, I begged her to walk. On that moment all my wish was to find a car which took us to Qayesh. I breathed a sigh of relief, as we got on the minibus. Masumah had fallen asleep in my arms, but Khadija was restless. She had become bored. Whatever we did to calm her was useless. Several acquaintances were in minibus. They began to keep Khadija amused. Just then Masumah had woken up and wanted milk. Breast-feeding her I fell asleep from exhaustion.
Relatives, friends and acquaintances who had been informed we have gone to village, would come to my Haj Agha’s house to greet and visit Samad. It was the first time that I was in Qayesh and I didn’t worried about Samad’s going. He had lain in bed and didn’t go anywhere. Every day I would change his dressing and give his medicine on time. The situation had been quite different from the past. Now I wanted to drop in on families and friends, but Samad made an excuse and said: “Qadamkheyr! Where are you? Come here and sit next to me. Talk with me. I’m pissed out of my mind.”
After a few years of our marriage, this was the first time that we talked to each other without worries and fears of distance and separation. Khadija’s sweet-talking was attracted everyone. Haj Agha adored my babies. He often would take them to go out.
Khadija was always in Shirin Jan’s arm and continuously said: “Sheena, Sheena.” Sheena also loved her very much.
Now all the family called my mother, Sheena, since Khadija began to call her in this way. Most of the time, Haj Agha would look after of babies. I also would stay at home to take care of Samad. “I want to sit next to you and talk for long.” Samad once said: “Qadamkheyr! I wish these days would never end.”
I got happy and said: “Samad! Let’s leave town and working there and come back to Qayesh.”
Without thinking, he said: “No ... not at all. I’m Imam’s soldier. I’ve promised to be his soldiers. Today country needs me. Rather than talking about these things, pray for me to become well and return to my work soon. You don’t know how much I’m in agony these days. I shouldn’t lie down in bed. I must go and serve to my country.”
Doctor had recommended Samad two months resting. But we went back to Hamadan after ten days. As soon as we reached to our home, he said: “I’m going.”
I insisted: “Don’t go. You’re not still well. Your wound hasn’t still healed. If you move much, your stitches will be opened.”
He refused and said: “I’ve missed my colleagues. I drop in on them and come back soon.”
With talking or insisting nobody could keep Samad at home. When he said he goes, he went. That day he went and came back at night. He had bought some fruit, meat and various comestibles too. He gave me them and said: “Qadamkheyr! I must go. Possibly two or three days I won’t come back home. In these few days that I haven’t gone at my work, a lot of works have been gathered. I must go to do my undone works.”

To be continued…