A small tribute
The world lost an intelligent, strong, and humble man last February. Grampa.
Taher Khalifeh (1924-2014)
90 beautiful years of life.
As an ambitious young man, he went to seek knowledge in Belgium when he barely had the means to do so. He taught himself French, studied Agricultural Sciences and did a PhD in “Pistachios”. Upon graduating, he was immediately summoned to Egypt when the country was facing agricultural difficulties. He was honored as the first person to facilitate the cultivating of Pistachio plants and help Egypt overcome some of its most challenging seed germination problems.
(On that note, I can’t think of how many times he probably spotted me removing pistachios off my desserts as a child, and how painful it must have been for his eyes. But little did I know.)
A visionary, a writer and a former UN diplomat (when the UN was actually a legitimate organization)… he was above all: my grampa
He raised me as a child, held my hand and took me to the park almost every single day. He spoiled me with a lot of cotton candy and was very patient with me when I asked if he could push me on the swing a 'wittle bit longer, never got bored of me or my silly questions. I ran into his arms at airports, and he playfully carried me on his shoulders.
His word was law, and his actions were mercy. Attention shifted to him like sunflowers turning to the sun every time he spoke at gatherings. He spoke to the elite men of Syria in the same tone he greeted the average men in the souks. People always had amazing stories to share about him.
He invited me to his 60th class reunion and showed me off in front of his friends as one of his greatest achievements in life.
He went out of his way and against the law to protect a tree from being taken down. Because he respected life in all its forms.
On his dying bed, he would smile to the nurses and make my grandmother jealous in the silliest, cutest way.
Despite everything, I am thankful I got a chance to say goodbye last Winter. I spent a bittersweet reminiscent week in New York by his bedside at the hospital, I have yet to realize the depth of this loss when I return home to Damascus (one day).
But for now, the powerful play goes on and my grampa contributed verses, books, seeds and trees…
يا رب أكرمه في الآخرة كما أكرمني في الدنيا
اشتقنالك يا غالي..