Thursday, November 03, 2011
Today was my aunt b-day. I tried to call her and there was the message " the number is not signed" so I thought they change their phone number so I messaged her on f.b and i wrote the number I called her with.
I also called home to confirm the number with my dad. When I was reading the number for him I found out there were two entry thus two number saved with my aunt name. and I noticed the number I was calling was 8 dig rather than just 7, so i was trying to figure out why did i saved an extra digit and then I found out I was calling her number in tehran.
In my defense when i was back home,,, the number was just 6 digits and they added the other 2 digits later on...
when I was talking to mom and dad I found out, my aunt sell the apartment.
It totally broke my heart. It was hers and she had all the rights to sell it. But i really didn't want her to do so. I wanted to see it again, or take a video from it. I'm sure I told her about the video idea, but I'm sure they wouldn't care, or it wasn't that big of a deal for them to take a movie.
I wanted to show it to sh. I wanted to go there and see how big it is again. I was born there, I grew up there. It was my home. every time i dreamed about home, it was our home in iran. the home was always that home, just the people and some times the streets are a mix from here and there.
this means I can't go there any more, i can't sing on the stairs or look at the view to the backyard neighbours and the flowers and ( the branches my grandfather grew)
when we were leaving tehran, our house wasn't completely empty. we took just the very important and nessecarly stuff and left the rest. my dad book store and lots of other things, even picures and album. I remember when we were leaving mom gives us a backpack and we could take as much as stuff as we wanted in the backpack, and we(I ) put the books there. I took some of my fav books and couple of my grandfather .and a book of my great grand father. I'm glad I took them. I think we had so many things that we left it in the basement with the hope to come back and get them. I asked mom whats happen to them and she said nothing seems left behind....
It was my mom and dad wedding portrait, I hope they are some where safe.
when i was full of emotions, when I was excited and happy and when i thought i fell in love i kept my notes, and all those things that reminding me of those memories. When we were leaving home, I put them in a black plastic bag, and I put a note on top of them " please never touch this"
When homajan came here to visit us from Iran, she brought those for me, she was so happy to bring those for me and she told me that she tought this would be the best thing she could brought for me, I remember i become a bit upset, i didn't want any one acknowledge them and I thought we didn't have enough space here to take care of them. my room was much smaller and much less space. I now can see what an amazing thing she did for me , 19 years of my life. the first 10 yrs living here, felt temporary. maybe beacuse i was always expecting to move to different place. but didn't give me that much of feeling of belonging or roots. maybe its more like when I seperated once from what i felt I belong to, then it makes it harder to feel that attachment again.
I don't know how attached I am to this place, the place that is my own place. i don't know how much I have "feeling for its things". having an attachment feeling for some thing, is different by getting upset if it breaks beacuse it doesn't look nice any more.
The funny thing was sh was telling me that he wants to go back to iran for xmas, and he said he missed it so much. then i get to the conclusion that beacuse her sister was very homesick and she was talking to him, it makes him misses home and wanting to go back too. and i was thinking that maybe she shouldn't say these things to him, when there isn't so much that he could do and it also greatly affects him too.
and then these things happens to me....
Comments-[ comments.]
I also called home to confirm the number with my dad. When I was reading the number for him I found out there were two entry thus two number saved with my aunt name. and I noticed the number I was calling was 8 dig rather than just 7, so i was trying to figure out why did i saved an extra digit and then I found out I was calling her number in tehran.
In my defense when i was back home,,, the number was just 6 digits and they added the other 2 digits later on...
when I was talking to mom and dad I found out, my aunt sell the apartment.
It totally broke my heart. It was hers and she had all the rights to sell it. But i really didn't want her to do so. I wanted to see it again, or take a video from it. I'm sure I told her about the video idea, but I'm sure they wouldn't care, or it wasn't that big of a deal for them to take a movie.
I wanted to show it to sh. I wanted to go there and see how big it is again. I was born there, I grew up there. It was my home. every time i dreamed about home, it was our home in iran. the home was always that home, just the people and some times the streets are a mix from here and there.
this means I can't go there any more, i can't sing on the stairs or look at the view to the backyard neighbours and the flowers and ( the branches my grandfather grew)
when we were leaving tehran, our house wasn't completely empty. we took just the very important and nessecarly stuff and left the rest. my dad book store and lots of other things, even picures and album. I remember when we were leaving mom gives us a backpack and we could take as much as stuff as we wanted in the backpack, and we(I ) put the books there. I took some of my fav books and couple of my grandfather .and a book of my great grand father. I'm glad I took them. I think we had so many things that we left it in the basement with the hope to come back and get them. I asked mom whats happen to them and she said nothing seems left behind....
It was my mom and dad wedding portrait, I hope they are some where safe.
when i was full of emotions, when I was excited and happy and when i thought i fell in love i kept my notes, and all those things that reminding me of those memories. When we were leaving home, I put them in a black plastic bag, and I put a note on top of them " please never touch this"
When homajan came here to visit us from Iran, she brought those for me, she was so happy to bring those for me and she told me that she tought this would be the best thing she could brought for me, I remember i become a bit upset, i didn't want any one acknowledge them and I thought we didn't have enough space here to take care of them. my room was much smaller and much less space. I now can see what an amazing thing she did for me , 19 years of my life. the first 10 yrs living here, felt temporary. maybe beacuse i was always expecting to move to different place. but didn't give me that much of feeling of belonging or roots. maybe its more like when I seperated once from what i felt I belong to, then it makes it harder to feel that attachment again.
I don't know how attached I am to this place, the place that is my own place. i don't know how much I have "feeling for its things". having an attachment feeling for some thing, is different by getting upset if it breaks beacuse it doesn't look nice any more.
The funny thing was sh was telling me that he wants to go back to iran for xmas, and he said he missed it so much. then i get to the conclusion that beacuse her sister was very homesick and she was talking to him, it makes him misses home and wanting to go back too. and i was thinking that maybe she shouldn't say these things to him, when there isn't so much that he could do and it also greatly affects him too.
and then these things happens to me....
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