July 5 Looms Near

Yet another June ends, to be followed by the inevitable July. Why do I fear July so much? 

Because you, my dear Wafa, died on July 5 eight years ago (the use of the word died is deliberate- I had to muster some courage to type that word because I don't know if I  have accepted your death yet, but in the end, that 's what actually happened ). 

Because July brings such an onrush of memories that I wish you were still around, though I know that I can never ever meet you again in this world, which is rather sad.

Because each July takes the moment I saw you for the last time farther back in time, which is dreadful. Forgive me when I say that I am afraid that the voice that I remember as yours might be a mixture of the voices of your sister and cousin- forgive this stupid friend of yours for her poor memory.

Because each year, my life takes new turns and I wonder what turns yours would have taken if you haven't left this world for the better. I wonder what you would study and where, when you would get married and to whom, how many children you would have, and what career you would pursue, and so on and on.

Because I keep missing you so much that I can talk a whole day about you and I still won't be able to say everything that I want to say about you.

And because it rains so heavily in July that I am reminded of that sad, sad morning when it rained so heavily that it seemed to me that the whole world was weeping at the loss of its dear child.