The art of love, kindness, and sacrifice

Tribute to my late dad. Gone but never forgotten.

Dear Papa,

It’s been three weeks since you are gone, and I still can’t understand, deal or cope with it. Every time I close my eyes, I can’t help it but picture your smiley face, your joyful dance moves, or you lighting your cigarettes, putting it on the side of your mouth, and keep on talking. I cried all my tears out, and I am still in need of crying every time I remember you are no longer with us.

You were gone with no forewarning, and you left me with so many things that I want to tell you. I haven’t even had the chance to say goodbye and kiss you for the last time.

Dear Papa, I miss you, I really do, and I want you to know that I will never forget you and forget what you have done for us. I am trying to write those words to honor your life and let the world know about you and who you were as a man. You deserve to be known, you deserve to be recognized for all the sacrifices you have done, and I promise you I will tell everyone about you.

You were raised in a very modest family in an impoverished neighborhood, you started as a bartender and slowly made it up to management positions in a countless number of hotels. You were committed to get us out of the modest life we had and to give us the best education, the best outfit, and the best things you wished for us to have. You were destined to live away from your family since I was five. You traveled across the country, searching every time for a better position and a better financial situation so you could provide food on the table and education for us. Because you knew that school was the key for us to hopefully enjoy a more comfortable life.

22 years ago, we were at a grocery store, and you have met a guy who told you about an opportunity in Saudi Arabia. I still remember how you got curious and excited. You thought that it would be the perfect opportunity to, again, make life better for your family. A couple of months later, you got the job, and we were on the way to the airport to see you leave for a new journey 4500 km away from us.

It wasn’t easy for neither of us, it was never easy, and we were already missing you terribly. But things got better, you made our life better. You never failed to make us feel almost equal to our friends. Every now and then, you will ship large boxes with clothes, furniture, kitchen tools, and things we never thought we would own. Although we hated your choice of similar clothes for my brothers and me, we were always happy to have fancy new ones.

We grew up seeing you once a year, and if we were lucky twice, and sadly we got used to it but always hoping that you would come home soon for good so we can be reunited again.

And then it was my turn to follow your steps and leave the house for a journey abroad. Only then I understood the suffering of being away from family and working harder than ever to ear your living. I never realized how you did or how you managed to always stay close to us despite the distance.

You would call us repeatedly, send us messages, forward videos on Facebook, and, most importantly making sure that we had everything we needed. And we got used to that. Knowing that you are away but with us. And I took that for granted. Until I receive a call from my mom on a Saturday morning. As soon as I heard her voice, I knew something was wrong. I wish that call never happened. I still hope I could wake up and realize it’s all a bad nightmare and then be able to call you and just ask how you are, and you would tell me all good “Sabrouch.”

Dad, you deserve to know what people said about you. During your funeral, we had hundreds of people rushing to our house. People we know but also people we never met but they all had a common thing: You helped them in one way or another.

Those people came to share our pain and to tell us about how you were kind and courteous to them. It was hundreds of stories that honestly eased a bit my pain. To know that my father was such a kind person even inspired me and made me realize where I got my character from. You were a loving, sociable, and caring human being. You always wanted to help, and you did.

You gave your house to old people and went to sleep in the hotel because you wanted that person to have more comfort. You got golf cars for aged pilgrims because you thought that it was tiring for them to walk to the mosque even though it was only 500 meters. You buried someone’s son who passed away during the pilgrimage even though you didn’t know him or his family. Your cousin was lying on his death bed in Tunisia. His mom was making the pilgrimage in Saudi Arabia, you managed the impossible so she could come home and say goodbye to her son. You welcomed every single Tunisian who came to Saudi Arabia as if they were coming to your home, and believe me, Papa, they are all grateful. Every time you had job opportunities, you came to Tunisia, and you hired people in need and literally changed their lives. You hosted countless people in your house, shared thousands of meals, conversations, and laughter that almost all the stories of people who came to your funeral were the same. They all told us that you made them feel home, helped them, and showed them so much, love. And people are now showing all their love to you and to your family.

Some of the people who came were too sick to go out, too old to walk upstairs or even with both legs amputated, and yet they joined us to cry your loss. I can’t tell you how many people came and how many people called. You really left something behind you, and I am proud of you Papa, for that. I can promise you we won’t forget you.

People were saddened by your tragic death. No one believed it because you made us think that you were immortal. You went through so many hard times and challenges that you appeared to be the strongest person we ever knew. And I know you were. I still remember all the stories you told me about the struggle and the hardship that you went through before getting to managing director positions. You achieved so many things, and yet your only goal has always been to make your family happy.

Papa, it’s hard, and I think it will even get harder. But I promise you that I will make you proud. We will take care of the family. You left three brave sons and a very strong daughter. And above all, the most fearless and strong wife/mother anyone could wish for.

You gave us many life lessons throughout your life. I will remember them all but mostly all the sacrifices you have done for us, the kindness you put out into the world, and the love you spread where ever you have been.

I am sorry Papa if I ever disappointed you, if I haven’t called you as much as you wanted, I am sorry if I wasn’t by your side for your last breath, but please believe in my deepest love. I will always cherish and be proud of inheriting your character and your name. I will make you the proudest. Wherever you are, I hope you are in a better place. I hope you rest in peace and please keep watching over me. I will always need your guidance and love.

I will tell everyone about you, and until we meet again, I will tell you all about my life. Your legacy will live on and your name will always be remembered.

I miss you, and I hope to see you soon.
I love you, Papa.
Rest in heaven.