A day with Simon...

Today was an incredible day. I will remember it for the rest of my life. At times I would stop and take a few steps back to try to etch in my mind the language, smells, faces, and events in which I was graced to participate. I spent the day with my son, Simon, as he fulfilled some incredible acts of love for his wife, Natasha, and her family.

As I wrote before, his father-in-law, Masoud, past away suddenly on Tuesday morning. He was Persian (Iranian), but was not too involved in the persian community in and around Fresno. Masoud's family, some in Iran and Fresno, asked that he be given a proper burial, according to Persian customs. This would be according to Islamic law and religious practice.

I met Simon at the Clovis Funeral Chapel, where Masoud would be ceremonially washed for burial. Simon participated with two Islamic men washing and anointing Masoud for burial. He was then wrapped in white linens laid in a coffin and transported to the Islamic Cultural Center of Fresno for prayers before his burial at the Madera Islamic Cemetery.

Simon was invited to join them to pray by Kamal Abu-Shamsieh, the director of the center, at the noon prayers at the Center, I didn't know that I was also invited so I stayed back and watched from the hallway with the other Persian men. We then all traveled way out to the cemetery. Prayers were given and Masoud's body was then removed from the coffin and placed before us as his face was revealed and we could pray for him and find some closure. Then his face was again wrapped and his body lowered into the grave. We then were asked to shovel the dirt into the grave. Simon along with some of the other men, grabbed shovels and began covering the body and filling in the grave. Even after some of us older men quit, Simon continued to shovel and fill the hole with the same two men who prepared Masoud for burial. It seemed Simon became one of the men.

I watched as Simon shared a few stories of his last time with his father-in-law to the other men who gathered tightly around to listen. The elder and religious leader, Masour, listened with deep respect to Simon as he shared of Masoud's last meal. When we broke to leave, Masour, turned to me, grabbed my hand and told me how impressed he was with my son for the day that he gave his father-in-law the proper honor and respect. He looked me in the eyes and said to me in a very thick accent, "You must be a very proud papa." All I could do was nod.

Please excuse me if I misspelled any of these fine men's name.