A few days ago, my dad’s brother Sami died to COVID -- he was one of my dad’s closest friends. My father is the only member of his immediate family to have left Iraq. Only in recent years, with the accessibility of video chatting and reliable wireless networks, he incorporated a new routine to his life: regular video calls with his big brother and other siblings. Before that, due to a crumbling infrastructure, phone calls to Baghdad were  limited in duration. I’ve been thinking about this a lot lately — how beautiful it must have been to have tools to communicate the mundane, after five decades. To reach relationship depths that weren't previously accessible. To share art and news. To talk about Kamila's pics on my Instagram (this regularly made the agenda, as my Amu Sami loved Kamila's pics on my Instagram).
My dad moved to America over 50 years ago, to sub-specialize in surgery as a young Iraqi physician. His native country didn’t offer the specialization in training that he endeavored for, so he set sail (literally, on a boat) the the United States. Over the years, he built a practice, ran it, had 6 kids, and more recently has indulged in the fine arts. Listen to a sliver of my dad’s story today on the pod. And keep my uncle in your prayers.

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