"What on earth is wrong with you ?" A question I would incessantly repeat . And she just gazes at me and shakes her head . The look in her eyes seems so distant , so far away .
"You have been watching the news again , haven't you Mom ? " . She manages a faint affirmative nod , a yes with quivering lips .
"Don't do this to yourself please Mother , don't do this to me "
"It is finished " she replies , " It is gone ".
I cannot argue otherwise . Indeed , it is finished , it is gone .
My mother is my Iraqi fortress . I cannot see her crumble that way . I am my mother's daughter and I cannot see myself crumble that way either . Where will I find the strength for the both of us ?
Where will I find the conviction that "things" w…