Ana Behibak. The phrase that is not used often in my house, but was used often with my sidi (grandpa in arabic). Ana Behabik translated to English as ‘I love you.’ Although it may be unusual that it wasn’t said in my house very often as others may say it daily, my sidi never failed to say it all the time. My sidi was a very special person who loved all fourty of his grandchildren equally. He would stay at my house at most times which made me happy of course. My siblings and parents enjoyed his stay at our house.
Everyday he would tell me and my siblings he loved us in Arabic. “Ana Behibak Ayah…Ana Behibak…” That was his way of showing love and affection. Saying those words was his love language towards all of his grandchildren. I would say it back of course too. So yes, that phrase was special.
That one memory where the phrase ‘Ana Behibak’ was used by my sidi is the one that I’ll never forget. It is a moment that is cherished and deeply appreciative of since it has really shared mutual love between my cousins and I. I even have a picture of it that I look back to. It was a cloudy breezy day at a park, mini rain puddles everywhere, the smell of fresh grass everywhere, chatter everywhere, and food at every picnic table. It was a lovely day. It was behind a BJs but our family marked it as a place to have food gatherings here and there depending on the occasion. There was a family gathering. The tables were filled with food. There were little kids riding their scooters. The uncles and aunts all having conversations in every corner. Then there were cousins and I that chilled at an empty table.
The reason for the family gathering was because my sidi and his wife were leaving back to Palestine. Therefore my dad and his brothers wanted to throw one last family gathering where we can all spend some cherishable memories before he had left back.
It was a few moments later where my cousins and I decided to walk up to my sidi who was sitting on the bench and just hanging with him. Surprisingly he had a pen in his pocket. It was a black pen that had gold on the clip and cap. He had many of those pens and had left most in whichever of his son’s house he stayed at. There were two left in my dad’s house. One of them I got to keep, which I see as a special pen. I don’t even use the pen for writing but more as a part of him since it’s a reminder of that special moment that was shared at the park.
Back to topic now, yes he had a pen. My cousins and I wanted him to write on our hands which he did, but we didn’t tell him what. We had all widened our palms as he took turns writing on each one of our hands. On each of our hands he wrote ‘Ana Behibak’ in Arabic letters with a tiny heart. That moment was unforgettable. We each hugged our sidi and then proceeded to all stand in a circle where we took pictures of our hands. The flashes that went in and out after each picture taken signified this moment that brought love. The last few moments after that memory was a bit blurry but I remember it being all laughs and happiness.
Unfortunately when my sidi was back in Palestine, he passed away two years later…the year 2020. I found out during my chemistry class while I was taking a quiz which I had ended up failing miserably due to the news. My family and I had met with our other family members to grieve his death, and it was a dark time. My cousins and I would share memories of him though that made us miss him terribly. And then we talked about that one time he wrote on each one of our hands with love. As sad as we were, we knew our sidi would want us to still smile. We all walked to carvel later that night to get ice cream and just cheer up while still sharing memories of our sidi.That day went from sadness to laughter. We sat at the playground of this Church just eating our ice cream.
Ana Behibak became a more meaningful thing than it was before my grandpa passed away. It taught me to always tell the ones I love that I love them. It is used at my house more commonly now and I always make sure to tell my family and friends that I love them the same way my sidi has. My cousins and I still hold the pictures we had taken of our hands as a small but extremely cherishable memory. I will still continue to tell my loved ones that I love them just as a legacy I see that my sidi left behind.
Hi Ayah! This essay is so beautiful and heartfelt that it not only made me learn more about you, your family, and some of your experiences, it also made me somewhat resonate or relate with you. (Reading this reminded me of my grandfather very much!) I really enjoyed reading this because you brought so much meaning to a simple phrase that is so underrated. Sometimes, a simple word is enough for us to relive the memories of our loved ones. I loved the attention to detail, especially the imagery at the park and the story of the pen.
I am really sorry to hear about that Ayah. I can relate to you because I also had some sort of love language with my great grandmother and after her passing away I will always remember about how we gave love to each other in that particular way.
Reading your essay, I felt that it was heartwarming and sweet, especially the relationship between you and your grandfather and how you linked it all to “I love you”, yet it was heart-wrenching. I really loved the part where you mentioned the pen and the writings on your hands, the way you talked about it made me imagine the scene. I was interested in the way you developed the connection between you and the phrase “I love you.”