Palm Trees and Jordan Almonds
I am from thick, worn medical journals.
From Jordan almonds and Gardenia-scented candles.
I am from new, empty apartments that turn into a clutter of personalities.
I am from the medjool dates, the blue bonnets, the unlikely but unbreakable merge of two cultures.
I am from Ramadan and special Saturday breakfast. From a tough, brilliant man and a practical but selfless woman. From a grandpa who sends a jar of home-made jam wrapped in a plastic bag over 7000 miles.
I'm from dedication and sacrifice and from the love of the job.
I'm from "hatred is heavy," from "praise your blessings and "only small minds discuss people."
I'm from olive oil fixes everything.
I'm from thick, gold bangles and old Arabic songs and turkey cooked with white rice on Thanksgiving.
I'm from a man who carved in stone, from old pictures of thick mustaches and bottle-cap glasses and 80s perms.
From everyday bike ride and Popsicles having their own food category and swim floaties worn way past the acceptable age of 6.
I'm from Lizzie McGuire on Sunday mornings and old barbies and way too many stuffed animals.
I am from those moments-snapshots of an endless, continuous roll film.
