mylightspirit

The notion of existence, of living as a being in this world; a combination of matter, body, and soul. It leaves us considering the ultimate destination. What happens when our physical form concludes its journey, and the soul carries on alone? As believers in faith, in life and death, and in the afterlife, we wonder: where will we end up? We’re haunted by endless questions; are these beliefs even real? If they are, if a heaven truly exists in the afterlife, perhaps we catch glimpses of it here in fleeting moments.

If you were given the chance to choose your heaven, what would it be? I know mine. In these difficult harsh days, I am more aware of where my soul feels happiest. I know where my true heaven lies.

My heaven is the first sight of Al Maydani Valley in the early 2000s after liberation. That day is imprinted in detail. My grandpa drove us through the newly accessible landscapes of the South. We could finally see the entirety of our beloved hometown, Kaffarrouman.

My heaven is sitting by the fire late at night with my mom, as she recalls about her childhood memories in the South. It’s the joy of playing in the neighborhood, carefree and safe. It’s the summer cruising with my sister through South’s village roads.

My heaven is the bustling family gatherings at my grandparents’ house, where you squeeze in at the lunch table among the old and young, surrounded by laughter and noise that fills the air. 

My heaven lies in that the simple pleasure of walking through back roads to the farmer to pick fresh vegetables straight from the land. It’s the warmth of fresh bread from the neighbor’s home.

My heaven is the magic of late winter nights. On these nights, my grandparents would knock on our door, ready to spend the night with us. It’s in the laughter of my siblings, the glow of my mom’s smile, the innocent giggles of my nieces.

My heaven is found in the details and in the innocence of childhood. It is in the deep-rooted memories of the South, where the land, home, and our very essence are knotted. We are molded to love and belong to that land, no matter what.

My heaven is enjoying coffee time walk with my love by the seaside. It’s in the sunrises and sunsets over Beirut, a city impossible not to love. My heaven is simple, hidden in the curves of everyday moments and innocent memories.

And if you ask me about hell, I can answer that we are having a taste of it now. It’s witnessing the destruction and flames overwhelming our beloved South. It’s seeing our cherished places erased, lives lost one after another. It’s the daily terror we endure in Lebanon. But we will always have our heaven, deep in our hearts and memories, that fuel us to keep going!