No matter how much I try to explain, no words could express my feelings when I learned about my father’s death. It was a cold night in January 2015 when I received a phone call from home, a cold and calm call. I could not be with him as he breathed his last. I was on another continent when he was on his death bed. I wish that he died a happy man, but he was sad. I believe I was part of why he was sad. He opposed how I planned my life.
I loved him, yet I could not tell him that I loved him for one last time. I remember him today as I struggle with my own kids. Fatherhood is challenging indeed. I miss being a son, for being fatherless is cruel and being away from my home is painful. Now, I remember this same feeling as I recover from another trauma. Life in the US is far better than in my homeland, but sometimes I feel lost, estranged, and isolated. But thank God, I am not alone; the Lord is with me to sustain me. Moreover, true believers and family members stood by me in my time of trouble, and I thank God for each one of them. So, although I am fatherless and sad, I am not alone.
Out of Egypt 