Allow me to introduce my wife

Many of my friends and family have not had the honor of spending vast amounts of time with my wife. A small few have chosen this because of their awkward judgment of our lifestyle (yes, that is sarcasm you hear), but most are simply at the mercy of the miles between us. Some of you read her blogs and experience her heart through her writings, but for those of you have not had the privilege, 

allow me to introduce her to you now.

Today, my wife has been asked to participate in a commemoration event honoring Holocaust survivors who endured Kristallnacht. For those unfamiliar with the term, Kristallnacht, also called the Night of Broken Glass, it was a series of attacks upon the Jews of Germany and Austria in November 1938. To be a part of such commemoration is an honor that many would cherish, but to M- it holds a much deeper meaning. I’ll use her words here, with her permission, of course.

Some forty years after the events of Kristallnacht, I was born under the bombs of a vicious war and then raised in a society that believed all Jews must be killed; I was told that there once were Jews in my home country, (Iraq) but I was never told the whole story, actually, I learned no stories. It wasn’t until I was exposed to the Western world that I learned about my own history—a history that saddens me. I learned that in my home country, Jews were estranged, attacked, and forced out of their homes into exile.

While walking between home and school last semester, I realized that I was smiling when I would meet a Jew on the street. A few days later, I realized that I was not necessarily smiling because I had seen a Jew, but because I was able to see a Jew and feel no anger, no hatred. On this same usual walk, I would see Jewish fathers and grandfather kissing and carrying their children after school, and I missed my father. Then I would think: How many more families have to suffer from hate? How many more children will lose their parents as a result of hate? How long will it take for us to awaken?

We come from different worlds. Baghdad, Iraq….Paris, Tennessee. Let me put this in perspective. Do you remember the night of “shock and awe” after the events of 9/11? Do you remember where you were as you watched the bombs exploding upon Baghdad? I certainly do. I watched with an overabundance of mixed emotions. I had no way of knowing that the wife that now makes my very soul dance was sitting beneath those same explosions that filled my television screen fearing for her life and the life of her family. The realization of this has served as a constant reminder to me: no matter what the feeling on one side of a choice, action, or experience, there is always someone on the other side of that choice with their own experience, fears, hopes, and feelings.

To know M- is to have experienced something refreshing. To put it simply, her heart is for humanity.  Months before we were together, she was already challenging my mindset and encouraging a self-examination that I had previously not known. In short, she makes me a better person, not in a cliché sort of way, but in such a way that makes me honestly investigate my place in this world. Yes, I am biased, happily so, but I also see her spread her contagious zest for life through others who are lucky enough to know her.

She is passionate, kind, intense, comical, fascinating, and incredibly humble; she’ll, no doubt, tell me that I give her too much credit when she reads this*. She will end her presentation with these words: 

I could have have foreseen this journey that I walk today, but as we stand here together in commemoration of those who have suffered, and of those we have lost as a result of hate, know that I am committed to this journey of peace. Your well of life, your determination, your resilience, and your pride of heritage beckon us towards hope and strengthen us to see the way of peace.

I am grateful and incredibly lucky to walk this journey called life with such a soul. May we all be strengthened to see the way of peace. 

*and that is exactly what she did.