Friday, April 18, 2008
At Noon / à Midi
I was born at noon. Warda was the name my nana gave me. She said she always wanted to give her daughter this name. She gave it to me. Warda. Flower. I was the second child, the second daughter; the second “floral” name in the family (my sister’s name is Yasmine, which means Jasmine).
I was born in a small clinic, in a small room. I was born on a warm spring day. My father still remembers the exact room where I was born. Every time we would go by the clinic he would show me the room and tell me these exact words: “Here! This is where you were born. You were a big baby and your face was so red that the nurse called you red mullet when handing you to your mother” I talked to him this morning, and he told me he is going to visit this exact room tomorrow. I smiled.
My parents were here when I gave birth to my daughter. My father walked me to the car and he didn’t want to let me go. He told me it was just yesterday that he was walking my mother to the clinic to bring me to the world, and now he was walking me to the car to have my first child. My mother smiled. I smiled. We both cried.
I was born into a loving home. I was born into a loving family. I was born into a family where my grandmother would make her memorable Jam Tart on birthdays.