Wombs in Exile
Jan 25th, 2008 by womensspace
I remembered all the women in my family.
I remembered both the women on my paternal and maternal side and their stories even though different, were the same in essence…
I recall my great grandmother who used to tell me in her broken Arabic how she walked from Armenia all the way to Mosul, burying her husband and her son in the snow with her own hands.
I remember my grandmother aged 12, telling me how she would carry wood for miles and miles, and fall exhausted…and how she helped her mother bury her father and little brother with her bare hands in the snow…until her hands froze in the ice.
They both would choke on their tears and change subject…And in her older age, my grandmother would go into greater details but she would choke again, and stop…
Read at Uncensored Arabwomanblues.
Comments closed.
