“Jiddo! (grandpa) I missed you so much!”
I ran up to him and gave him a hug, he was sitting in his spot, the same spot, on the last seat of the couch.
“Where you bin, you don’t come all week.”
“Sorry Jiddo, I had exams this week, blame school.”
“Ok” He nodded and gave me permission to sit.
“What are you watching?”
“The same, Arabic noos, I watch it every day, the teevee have nothing else.”
I stared at the screen as a brunette female reporter spat out Arabic words at such a speed, I was convinced it was another language. Jido was focusing on the news, but I was a yapper, so I had to disrupt him with questions.
“What did you do today?”
“Noting, I sit on this couch, not much to do.”
“Did you eat anything?”
“Your auntie bought me qusa yesterday for dinner, I had that for lunch”
I knew Jiddo wasn’t having good meals anymore, when Tayta (grandma) passed away he was barley getting by. A clean home, warm meals, conversations. I would come to Jiddo’s house to clean up a bit, but mainly it was to keep him company. Today I decided to ask the question dad told me to ask.
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