It’s been ten years since you left us.
It feels like a split second with you and a lifetime mourning your loss already.
It also took a split second for my eyes to tear up, bringing you fully into my consciousness today.
There is not a single thing—or several things or people—that can console someone’s greatest loss. For me, the emotional weight of the 630-plus days of ongoing genocide in Gaza—where loss has taken on a new definition—stirs my whole being to feel the magnitude of the loss each survivor experiences for every loved one they have lost. Each loved one is a lifetime of memories; each loss is an ocean of mourning.
Five years ago, I made this video celebrating you—my Rima—and our sisterhood.
It was a small project completed in ten days that ignited a passion buried for fifteen years. Since then—after thousands of hours of learning and significant expense—I can’t imagine myself without being an active audio/visual storyteller.
That spark is still with me as I work on a short film to celebrate Mama, who is thankfully, in some form, still with us today. I think of you as I go through every scene in my humble attempt to also show the Mama you cherished so much.
I hope you’ll love it not only because she’s your mama too, but because your existence is a big part of why and how I am making it.
