Chapter 8

Twenty-fifth of December 1980, Christmas Day, three o’clock in the afternoon. “dear I think it’s time.” We should be heading to the hospital…” Beirut, American University Hospital, five o’clock in the afternoon, “I think we should name her, Lavenda”.

That was the day I was born to a lovely family who was made of two girls: Priya and Denisse. As I was born on Christmas day I was a gift to my whole family, especially my dad who as you know by now was born on the same day. Because of that, he had the privilege to name me. Being the last of three children at the time was really interesting. I got all the attention I needed, there was no one to compete with me till… two years later my mother brought back my brother Kevin who is now thirty-five years old. Most of you might think that he got all the attention but this was wrong. I stood no competition. I was what you might call daddy’s girl. Kevin and I were the best allies you could find. In fact, I can’t recall a day when he wasn’t there for me ready to listen, ready to keep me company.

To be honest with you, my parents instilled in us the importance of family ties. They taught us its importance and that no matter what happens we will always have our family around. Mom and dad were always there to catch us when we fell; they were with us in good times and bad ones. I remember how when I failed ninth grade, mom and dad were there for me. They did not give up on me even though dad was upset at the beginning. I remember seeing him disappointed at first; he stopped talking to me but then realized that by doing so he was only pushing me to the edge. After all, no child comes with a manual. A month after this incident and with my mother’s encouragement and later my father’s I was able to stand back on my feet. During the first days when I went back to school, they were there for me helping me through but then let go of my hand and I flew. They had enough faith in me to let me try on my own making sure this time to tell me that no matter what happens they will be there.

Three years later, I graduated from school with an honourable mention! I was known to be a determined and stubborn person. I mean when I decided on something I would go after it and nothing would stop me. It is not that I am not open to suggestions, but I just don’t like it when people try to impose their ideas on me or interfere with my personal matters. Something Mr Harm’s family was very good at and something I had forgotten when I was under Mr Harm’s control. I guess what really characterizes my family is the fact that they believed and trusted each one of us and made sure that we value and feel it. This, in fact, had helped us go on and avoid mistakes. We knew that no matter what problems we might face we can always talk to them. My parents helped shape my personality.  

My father was a divorced man with two girls from his previous marriage: Priya and Denisse. Priya was eight years my eldest and Denisse, six years. My mother was also a divorced woman but had no children from her first marriage. My parents tell me that when they met, it was love at first sight and ever since they were still in love.

Growing up, I had no idea that Priya and Denisse were my half-sisters. They used to call our mother: mom. We were always treated equally and never felt like they were not my sisters. My parents were married on December 8, 1978. As the youngest girl in the family, I was a rebel. I was extremely curious by nature and just wanted to discover the world around me. I had a love of life that was unnatural. My parents always tell the story of how I was born underweight and that the doctor told them that I would not make it in life unless I gained a lot of weight. They used to weigh me on the produce scale and I made it! I was also daddy’s little girl; independent, self-confident, loving, caring, and challenging. I grew up during the war in Beirut but was never scared. For some reason, I always knew how to create a safe bubble for me where I can shield myself. I used to live in this bubble and in books, my safe haven. I was also very close to my brother. We were accomplices in crime. I considered him as my baby. Things changed after I got married and left the house. He was then only eighteen... 

Mr Harm was jealous of my relationship with both my father and brother. I did not know it at the time; however, he always tried to put down Kevin and portray him as aloof and full of himself. The criticism was daily, but in small doses and always covert (remember the story of the frog?). If I ever tried to contact my brother, he would always come up with an emergency to keep me from engaging with him.

Those two weeks I spent at the hospital hoping that Celeste would get better, showed me a glimpse of my former self. A self that I had put away, a self I could not recognize anymore. Once my beautiful ray of sunshine was better, we went back to our apartment with her strapped in her car seat. From that day, her dear father would not help much in the daily routine of taking care of a baby. He was only there for the fun times and barely, even. The night before my mother in law was due to leave, I took her out to do some shopping. She decides to invite me for coffee and tell me a story involving her French sister in law. Yes, I know her brother, who was not a Christian, was married to a French Christian lady. Double standard is all that am going to say. The reason? Mr Harm’s family and my family are Druze and it is a well-known fact that Druze are only allowed to marry Druze. More on that, later.