O'ma

Last night, as I was putting some eye shadow on to go to a birthday party, I get this call, O'ma is sick, she is in I.C.U., she might not survive the night! ...
I go and see her, she smiles, the first thing she asks, how is your mom? I say she is good, we talked this morning. I look at her. There are all kinds of needles poked into her skin.
The first grand kid was born in Vienna. He called her O'ma, which means grandmother in German and following him all the rest of the grandchildren, but now he does not speak a word of German. He has forgotten.
She says please put my plants on auto sprinkler. I'm afraid they die. Some need more, water them more frequently by hand. She is worried about that orange tree along with her favorite pomegranate. Everyone knows how she loves her plants. She has a green thumb too. She can make almost anything grow green.
She says you loved pepsi when you were a baby, you would follow me everywhere saying O'ma, biz biz! Her house is a photo gallery of my mom's childhood, my parents wedding, my photo with funky permed hair when I was thirteen and my aunt when she looked like a model, Ali when he was in diapers, my grandfather when he was young .... Her dining table is where my democrat aunt argues with my republican uncle over many colorful and authentic Persian dishes.
She makes the most beautiful 7seens full of Sombols and I always rush to her house to get my last minute red fish and sabzeh one hour before new year's...I'm thinking I want my mother to see her one more time, one more Eid.


The doctor steps in, he says she is more stable now, and the only thing that can help her right now is that her family gets some sleep, assign one person to stay with her and go home and take some rest.