This is such a beautiful, heartfelt story about someone so dear to you. Thank you for sharing — reading it warmed my day. I wish your mom a belated happy birthday.
The most heartwarming thing I’ve read in a while, thank you Naghmeh for sharing this beautiful birthday card! It’s 100% true that it’s these “small” memories that we keep coming back to. I wish your lovely mom a very very happy birthday. ❤️ I bet those “artisanal” potato chips were just scrumptious! 🤗
Such a great tribute and ode to your wonderful momma. I will never forget the mental picture of you attempting to set the table with your feet. In solidarity with the armless Japanese girl in your novel. It tells us as much about imaginative you as your indulgent and resourceful, determimed mum.
It is comforting to read your experiences, as we too left the US (New York) for Iran in 1980. I was completely lost, barely able to speak, read or write Farsi. Your mother sounds a lot like my mother (except that my mother wasn't a particularly good cook), who made "Chinese food" for us by drowning over cooked vegetables in soy sauce. She worked to create a sense of normalcy, as the world we knew collapsed around us.
Iranian women are built different, and I am so grateful to be Nazan's son. Thank you for sharing your story, and hers. I needed this. And please say "happy birthday" to her, merci.
This is such a beautiful, heartfelt story about someone so dear to you. Thank you for sharing — reading it warmed my day. I wish your mom a belated happy birthday.
💕💕
The most heartwarming thing I’ve read in a while, thank you Naghmeh for sharing this beautiful birthday card! It’s 100% true that it’s these “small” memories that we keep coming back to. I wish your lovely mom a very very happy birthday. ❤️ I bet those “artisanal” potato chips were just scrumptious! 🤗
Thank you Mona 💕
Really beautiful writing and beyond all, very inspiring. Thanks so much for publishing this!
Appreciate it. Thank you.
Such a great tribute and ode to your wonderful momma. I will never forget the mental picture of you attempting to set the table with your feet. In solidarity with the armless Japanese girl in your novel. It tells us as much about imaginative you as your indulgent and resourceful, determimed mum.
It is comforting to read your experiences, as we too left the US (New York) for Iran in 1980. I was completely lost, barely able to speak, read or write Farsi. Your mother sounds a lot like my mother (except that my mother wasn't a particularly good cook), who made "Chinese food" for us by drowning over cooked vegetables in soy sauce. She worked to create a sense of normalcy, as the world we knew collapsed around us.
Iranian women are built different, and I am so grateful to be Nazan's son. Thank you for sharing your story, and hers. I needed this. And please say "happy birthday" to her, merci.
Thank you!
♥️