Dear Khaltoo Safaa,
You don’t know me, but I know of you. When the Gaza Ministry of Health released the names of the martyrs, I was so overwhelmed with the sheer numbers that I felt a part of me had been killed. So naturally, I looked up our name and I found fifty of us.
Eight of us Safas would have celebrated their birthdays this Ramadan if they were still alive. Six Safas were under the age of ten. How can I honor and remember all fifty of you?
Because of your birthdate and age of 82, you were the eldest among all of the Safas to be killed. I think often about you, especially as my mom is close to your age. I long to be in your living presence. I wanted to ask for your advice and learn from your life experience.
Tonight I went to iftar with friends and left feeling really sad. Even though my friends were so kind and warm to me, and gave me hugs and gifts, I left feeling like I’m undeserving of that love. During the journey back to my apartment, my thoughts got sadder and darker. I wonder what advice you would give me, if I knew you, and if you were still alive. Did you ever feel insecure? Or were you able to accept the love given to you?
I often get my grief mixed up with my joy. I’ve done this since childhood. Were you the same?
Yours truly,
Safa