Ani's Home

We lost our daughter Ani to Lupus a few days after her 12th birthday. The virtual world of the Internet helps to keep her moments alive and share them with others. The first posting was on August 2005 To read all past postings from 2005 onward, please go to https://toani.blogspot.com/ and you will see all the previous entries listed. Click on the one you wish to read.

Thursday, December 18, 2008

Karoun, Karoun, Karoun E

In an indirect way, I have been thinking about Ani today. Well, holiday times are always full of times lived already; they are also full of times lost in their own pace. Sometimes, even full of times emptied into an emptier space. To create the loss of feeling.

I am thinking of Ani, because of her love for flowers. When Irises were in bloom, she would run outside in her 5th-grader uniform, cut a flower, wrap the stem in a wet paper towel, wrap the paper towel in aluminum foil, and with the radiant green-blue of her eyes say “It is for my English teacher -- she looooves flowers”!
… Today a colleague was discussing the subtleties of Gardenia flower scents in various fragrances. I like Gardenia scent very much-- it reminds me of my childhood near the Mediterranean. Ani loved Gardenia scent too, I think primarily because I like it. It was a bonding thing-- one that helped us talk about gardening and getting our hands dirty with mud. It was Ani’s way of talking grown-up talk.

I am thinking about Ani because our conversation this morning, somehow, drifted from the Mediterranean to Asia Minor, to Mount Ararat, Lake Sevan, and Armenian traditions. As I was listening to my colleague talk about these places and topics, I kept hearing Ani sing the only Armenian song she knew. It was a simple popular song I had taught both her and her brother when they were 4-years of age. Greg could not care less about it, but Ani got very good with the pronunciation. And she had a sweet voice too.
… So today, the eve of holidays, I remembered Ani without planning to. It was because of Gardenia flower, “old-country” stories, Mount Ararat, and the Chapel on the island on Lake Sevan.
Sometimes a scent fills that empty space where space got lost, one July day…

December 18, 2008