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The war
Written @ 6:07 p.m. on 2023-01-26

I was only 4 years old so I'm not sure which bits are memories and which bits are things I learned from my parents

They were young, my sister was two and my mother was pregnant with my brother

I remember the apartment had french windows that I liked to smush my face against

I remember baba pulling me away from them

I remember hiding in the hall and asking where my sister was, they forgot her in the living room

I remember seeing a tank from those windows

I remember mama crying and plopping me onto a bag she was trying to close

I don't remember the bus at all

I don't remember being left in the desert

Mama said she contemplated mercy killing us

I remember running for the boat

I don't remember my mother running back for my sister because she had picked up a bottle of lotion that had fallen and was leisurely putting it on her leg

That made Mama chuckle

I dont remember having no papers or baba crying

I didn't know we were sneaking onto the boat

I remember the bunk beds, I was next to the light switch on the top bunk and I loved that

I remember Mama changing my sister's diaper on the bottom bunk

I remember baba on the deck looking at the water

I dont remember arriving in Egypt

Apparently my brother was born the day after we arrived

My sister and I cried because we hadn't seen a penis before and wanted to return the baby

When they cleaned him up and presented him to us wrapped in a towel we said we'll take this one, it's much nicer

Mama snapped a photo of us sleeping

They lost all their savings

They always talked about faith but they lived waiting for the other shoe to drop

And we grew up grateful and afraid

They were very calm during crises and short fused with everything else

I remember baba being slightly annoyed with cancer on his nose and later that week freaking out because he missed a U turn

I remember mama wanted to finish her noodles while the ambulance waited downstairs

At least the war is over for mama

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