He would come in with a roar, and we'd line up to get our turn of being tossed into the air over and over again.

My late grandfather's 'assistant' - accompanied him in most of his desert travels and helped with some of the day to day activities of the business.  I last saw him when I was 11.  It seems like it was yesterday...

I visited the old store my grandfather owned - which now belongs to one of my uncles; I think he kept it in memory of my grandfather and not for any profit-reason - a few days ago.  The person I was there to see wasn't around.  I started taking photos of things that interested me.  That's when I noticed that there was a tiny photo - actually a newspaper clipping - that was framed and hung on the wooden door.  The features of the face weren't as clear as I'd wanted them to be...but it still felt great to be able to see my grandfather's known sweet smile.  It was while I was looking at the photo that I sensed that someone was watching me.

I turned around, and there he was.

Bilal.

It's so weird that when you're younger, you feel that anyone older than you is of great size.  He looked different...not facial-wise; he looked the same...just more wrinkles, but different in the sense that he's not how I 'pictured' him to be.  The image I had from my childhood was v different.  Here was a man, smaller in size, who didn't look as strong as I recall and was shy!

He didn't recognize me.  That was a shock.

He asked me who I was and I replied that he knew me.  He looked at me puzzled...I could see him running thru all the 'options' in his mind.  It was only when he frowned that I decided I'd help him out.  His reaction to: 'My grandfather used to own this business' was a deeper puzzled look! He still wasn't able to recognize me.  A man who had tossed me in the air hundreds of times and who had kid-like conversations with me...couldn't remember me.  A smile found its way to my face, and that's when I told him my name.

"Oh...Al-Shaikha!"

To hear that word again brought tears to my eyes - I had to look away briefly and blink several times.  My grandfather used to call me that - he was the only one.  For people who don't understand Arabic, al-shaikha is the female version of al-shaikh which means: a leader of an Arab family or village.  I don't know why my grandfather chose to call me that...but I love the fact that he did.

I spent about 15 minutes with him.  He was inquiring about everyone in the family - what each was doing and if they visit my grandfather's house often - & talking about the business; the latter made me feel very much a part of the business during the few minutes it lasted! =)  What surprised me is the amount of respect and awe he holds for me...that, I didn't expect.

I promised him that I'll be back with the photo prints + that I would drop by every once in a while.

& you know what?

I will be back there soon...

Bilal

To be continued...

"Oh...Al-Shaikha!"

To hear that word again brought tears to my eyes - I had to look away briefly and blink several times.
When I read these words I felt that some thing inside me @@ " I remeber the passed GrandFather". I can understand yours & his feelings at that moment. Its great that you write all these things which will infact help you & your comming generation to understand the ppl oround you and how to deal with life " Old PPL " . Salmi 3la Bilal :-)

what a nice thing from you to visit the old man. keep it as a habit.

ae_flickr: Thanks for the kind words...but I don't understand how the next generation is going to know about this blog! lol

Khalid: Will try my best to visit him often. Thanks for passing by.

lulu ! Have a record or write the URL for the blog some where, where it can been seen easily .lol .

Such a beautiful story… makes me miss my family in Germany so very much. There are so many people who wouldn’t recognize me anymore. We lived in the same village for over 800 years, so you could say that still feel very much at home there, though I never lived there because it belonged to the former East Germany when I was young. I have been back sine the reunification, and find that our name is still spoken and know amongst the people. One day I will go home again, but I know not when that will be, all I know is I have never felt right in this new found land we now find ourselves in.

wallah you story brought tears to my eyes... made me miss my late grandfather too... allah yer7amhom wa ye'3amid roo7hom alyaanaaa...

it always nice to visit old places and see people from your past... last summer I went to see the house and neigborhood I used to live in when I was a kid...(with my camera of course), but to my surprise, nothing changed!!! even the afgany 5ayaa6 was there, thats where my mom used to go to make her dresses...and i recognized most of the older men that were walking out and about... the streets were the same... the schools were the same... the masjid was the same... it was amazing! and i cant even explain the rush of emotions and memories that came back when i was there... a very nice experience....

thanks for bringing back some memories of my grandpa and the days when i was younger...i last saw my grandpa when i was 11...

much love dear........ wa take care.... :)

Beherzt: When was the last time you visited? I sense that it's been quite a long time...feel that you miss your family a lot .
One day my friend...one day, you will go home. *hugz*


adaydreamer: Sorry about the tears hun..=/ May their souls rest in peace.
You got me smiling when reading about your visit. It's great to know that you were able take photos of everything 'old'. This way, no matter what...you'll always have it, you know?
You don't have to thank me...I didn't do anything =)
*hugz*

WOW lulu, great pictures and great stories.
I wanna share something with u.
http://postsecret.blogspot.com/
it's a place where ppl makes confessions, kinda intersting to me.
time to leave now...

UAEklassic: Thank you =)
+roll eyes+ @ your interest lol *kidding*

what an amzing picture lulu. sounds like an honourable man, as does your grandfather. i feel that kind of nostalgia for my father whom i hardly knew, but whom i admired during those times i did meet him. he passed away when i was 16, so 13 years ago now. i dont have much to remember him by, but he did tell me that pied wagtails were guardian angels and that if he wasnt around, he was watching me through the bird. i always feel warm when i see a pied wagtail.

elizabeth rose: Glad that you liked the photo. So sorry dear about your father; but that's a v loving way to remember him. +hug+