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Hi-ho, the derry-o

Writer's picture: Saira SufiSaira Sufi

I sit outside Zakaria’s banjo lesson and my body is accepting that I have been on the verge of tears throughout the day and it’s almost time to let them flow. Alright, here is the thing. I am a Jayhawk and I loved watching Paul Pierce and so even though I was a big Kareem Abdul Jabbar fan, I rooted for the Celtics. But man, Kobe was a beast, as a basketball player and as a father. This whole thing really doesn’t help my dislike for helicopters. There were others on that helicopter besides Kobe and I kinda like to think Hadi is part of some wicked pick up games right now.


My mind has been all over the place today, from laughing at my parents thinking I couldn’t understand my own blood test results from my annual physical. Yep, Dad, I know what WBC means.

I smile thinking about Zakaria imitating my ”look” when he doesn't put his jacket on after I tell him he must. Kid put his hip out and stuck his hand on it and I cracked up.

I thought about how I still hate being called Sarah right after I say my name is Saira, come on Guidance Residential, it ain’t that hard.



My body and mind are tired and I am sure I could write more about the joys of divorce, house rebuilding, house refinancing and how I can still here Hadi say, “Mommy, you are the best,“ but for now, I am gonna listen to Zakaria play a mean Farmer in the Dell.


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