Dear Son,

I wish I could tell you that your maman and I don’t still cry, but that would be a lie. We miss you more than ever and our hearts weep every day. Some days are better than others, of course, but not having you with us is still hard to cope with, but… we are doing the best we can.

On this Nowruz I feel a flood of mixed emotions, just as your mother does. On the one hand, we both feel the heavy weight of your absence, but at the same time, we know just how much joy we had together over the years during Nowruz, and we don’t want to lose that like we lost you.

Both of us know that although you are not with us anymore, you are not far away either. We feel your presence and we hope that you feel our love, for it is as strong today as it has ever been. While Nowruz will never be the same for us again, I want you to know that you will be with us during all the Nowruzes until we meet again.

My precious boy, do you remember Charshambeh Soori? We had so much fun -- you and Mom had through the years jumped over the fire and shouted out, “Sorkhi-e to az man, Zardi-e man az to.” Even though, I never got it during your lifetime, I now understand that jumping over the fire was part of who you were as a proud, young Iranian. I’m sorry that I failed to always grasp the finer points of the heritage that you and Mom shared with three thousand years of your ancestors.

I want you to know that on Charshanbehsoori my old legs jumped over the fire since yours cannot. Since your voice has fallen silent, my voice shouted, “Sorkhi-e az man, Zardi-e man az to” for you! Although, I know that I can never fill your shoes, I will try to bring your mother the happiness and joy that you brought to her for fifteen wonderful Nowruzes. When we made the Haft Seen table, my hands did the loving work that your hands did helping Mom to prepare the table. And when Sizdah Bedar comes, I will take Mom out to the same park where the three of us shared so many wonderful times in years gone by.

I miss you son.

I miss you so much that the tears streaming down my face right now are making it hard to type. You know and I know that Nowruz is not a holiday that I grew up with, but it is a holiday that I grew to love dearly because you and Mom shared it with me. I will do my best to carry on this beautiful holiday for the rest of my life in your honor. You were and always will be my precious Iranian boy and I miss you so badly that I feel numbing pain throughout my body and soul each and every day.

Despite this, I know that the day will come when we share all our Nowruzes together again forever. Until then, I will do my best to keep your loving and happy spirit alive in our house for all the Nowruzes Mom and I have left in this world. Although I will never be a real Iranian like you, I will always…always be proud that you were my boy, my beautiful Iranian boy.

Love,

Dad