The Sins Of The Father
By Sally Bishai (06/14/06)
Dear Mommy and Daddy... I write to you this morning expressing forgiveness for your having raised me the way you did, a way that you had to have known was going to make problems for me in this world, which it has.
See, this world doesn’t appreciate a person who lives the way we do. In our eyes, our lifestyle only simplifies things, but to outsiders, we look like freaks. People here don’t understand that living this way is a choice, and results in a rare and strange sort of person.
I don’t even think that your mentality’s a function of our being Egyptian in a Western world, come to think of it.
Could you have imagined, for example, that the way you treated alcohol was to stick in my brain, merging seamlessly with the landscape there, costing me many friendships and jobs?
Could you have known that the number of cigarettes you smoked around the house would create an addiction so strong that even now, 28 years after my birth, I’m feeling the effects?
But you did, Mommy.
You did, Daddy.
And what’s worse, you don’t seem perturbed in the least that you created a duplicate of you.
You don’t seem upset that like you, I have an addiction to the quest of abolishing smoking; you don’t even feel sad that I’ve lost out so many times because, like you, I have a Zero Tolerance Policy towards all forms of alcohol.
And the dating thing... the stories I could tell you about that! All in all, though, I forgive you for having steeped me in a household culture that frowns upon “shenanigans” as much as you do.
I forgive you from rescuing me from the possibility of AIDS, STDS, unplanned or badly-timed pregnancy, and the biggest one of all, a broken heart.
I forgive you for shunning cocaine, even though it would probably have helped me get better grades in school (the whole “staying up late” thing), and marijuana, which could have saved me all those years of insomnia.
(But wait, maybe I would never have written as much as I did, so I guess it’s all for the best.)
Was it the era that you grew up in that made you this way? Perhaps. And perhaps I’ll one day find a couple your age who is equally committed to these beliefs.
Was it your nationality of origin? It can’t be, for dancing at weddings is seen as at least marginally acceptable in many Egyptians, whether Christian or Muslim, while you’ve threatened to disown me if I even say the word “Rakkasa” in the same sentence as “my wedding.”
So, maybe you are just me3a2deen? (Neurotically messed up.)
Ahh. No comment there..
Maybe it’s the whole Jesus thing, then? You know, the bit about “And be not conformed to this world: but be ye transformed by the renewing of your mind, that ye may prove what is that good, and acceptable, and perfect, will of God.” (Romans 12:2)
Nah. God would never want us to miss out on the pleasures afforded by drinking, smoking, drug use, pre- or extramarital sex, or anything else of the “fast” lifestyle.
No, really. The whole lung cancer/cirrhosis/STD/heart attack thing was just an accident.
The whole “saying something dumb because you’re too drunk to stop yourself” thing and the “he left me, so now I want to DIE” thing was just a mistake.
It’s not as though God really tried to keep us from these fun activities. Right?
(Sorry I didn’t inherit your disdain of secular songs (“aghani”), Mommy! How could I turn my back on Abdel Halim and Mostafa Amar, though?)
Ohhhh, dear parents mine. I am so glad that we have moved on from this resentment I have always had to the way you were faithful to the best and truest forms of your culture, your senses of honor, and your god. May He bless you always, and make me into even half the parents that you were.
Ba7ebokom geddan... :)
Sally
Ps—Too bad we didn’t have an equally-beastly Zero Tolerance Policy toward pasta...
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