Dear Dina Rania Mustafa
This last summer, the summer of 2019, I took you to Palestine for the first time. Everyone asked me how you were while there and all I could tell them was that you had entered your natural habitat and it felt like you were finally home. You were all over everything and were excited and ready to absorb all that was around you. I don’t know if it was the warm weather, the constant company, being outdoors, or being surrounded by so many people all the time, but you were completely comfortable and at home. It was interesting going to Palestine with a baby. I was able to see the people I love and the land I love from a different perspective. You were a one year old ready to take on the world. You went up to strangers and would ask them to eat from their food. You said hi to every baby that crossed our path. You called every man you saw Amo. You just wanted to explore everywhere and meet everyone. I was conditioned to apologize for causing any disruption by you saying hi to strangers or going up to them but in Palestine it was different. You were not just my child, you were the child of this country, you were the child of this community. You know when they say it takes a village to raise a child, well, in Palestine, they actually live by that.
Photo by Rania Mustafa
That trip to Palestine was different. It was not like any other time I had visited Palestine and I owe that to you. In the past, I was more daring because in my eyes I was dispensable. But now, I was a mom and I had a little baby depending on me and knowing I had to come home to you....well, that kept me in check. Since the first time I stepped foot into Palestine as a baby - younger than you were- there was not a single time I went to Palestine and did not go to Jerusalem. Jerusalem, for me, has always been my happy place. There has always been something so magical about it. The walls of this city have seen years and years of history. After the laws changed and I became of age where I had my hawiyya, things became more difficult but that had never stopped me - I always found a way. Some days I reflect on that summer and I think I jinxed myself and that is what kept me, for the first time ever, from not stepping foot into Jerusalem. Other days, I think my grandfather who always had a lecture about Jerusalem prepared passed away before being able to visit Jerusalem for the last time. Jerusalem was his happy place too...Maybe it was in honor of his memory that I was unable to get in. On most days, though, I remember that my small pain of being deprived the sight of Masjid Al-Aqsa is a pebble compared to what my Palestinian sisters and brothers have to endure under this occupation.
That summer, I wanted to take you to Palestine to introduce you to your great-grandparents since you were their first great-grandchild. It was especially important to me for you to meet your greatgrandfather since his health was deteriorating. Then, on the morning of May 24th, 2019, your grandfather, my dad, rang our doorbell very early in the morning and told me, “Your mom’s dad, your grandfather passed away.” I questioned it. I denied it and then I sunk to the ground and broke into tears repeating, “This can’t be. He was supposed to meet Dina first. This can’t be.” As fate would have it, your greatgrandfather passed away mere weeks before you were supposed to meet and I was heartbroken, but it strengthened my resolve to go to Palestine that summer and introduce you to my family and to the land. 8
