Waking Up to Seventy
A Woman’s Journey through Grief and Her Long Road to Acceptance
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Never in my wildest dreams did I ever think that I would one day be SEVENTY! “Dreams” is not the right word here. Scariest “Nightmares” would more aptly describe what it is that I'm feeling. To be exact, I'm not seventy yet. But I can certainly see it from here. Feel it. Smell it. Taste it. But... I'm not there yet. In fact I am nine months shy of seventy. But man, am I ever racing towards it. Or is “it” ever racing towards me? Full speed ahead. With bells & whistles. Knocking everything in its way. Yes ofcourse, I do know that I haven't been singled out with that fate. That it happens to every single one of us. Us being the “human” race. And is it really that bad? Considering the alternative I mean. Only: where was I when all this happened? That's my question really. Why is it such a total shock? Like someone took me right out of my bed, in total sleep, and dumped me in a tub full of icy water... There! Wake up! You sleepy, comatose, hibernating soul!! Wake up! Wake up now and try to catch up, before you actually wake up in another dimension, and realise that you've missed it all. That an entire life has taken place, right under your very nose, and that you've slept right through it all. “ALL” I say. Not very true is it? I have memories of an active life. A happy life. Mostly. Full of people I love. And some I didn't love as well! Numerous ups, and a few downs ofcourse. Wins and losses. Laughter & tears. Until the downs, got too frequent for my liking. And the losses started multiplying exponentially. And the tears turned into rivers that threatened to drown me. That's when retreat became essential. Sleep girl, sleep. That's your only reprieve. Push it all down. Hide it all up. And turn auto pilot on. And there I was... And here I am now. Auto pilot has obviously started developing a few hitches hasn't it! Because I'm wide awake now and wondering what the h*** happened? Where has it all gone? Where have “they” all gone? And why am I still here? And who have I shut out all these years? And whom have I hurt? And holly f***!!! where has my life gone?! In a nutshell, this is where I find myself today: awake and all, and shocked beyond belief! And where do I take it from here? And can I just jump and catch up? Catch up with who? Or with what? And shouldn't my first priority be catching up with that part of myself that's been doing the hiding? And how do I bring her up to date? How do I help her move beyond her loss? And her grief? And her total devastation? Love her ... and hug her ... and tell her there there ... all will be well little one. You are one f***ing courageous girl, and you made it! I see you, and I hear you, and I'm here for you. One hell of a journey heh?! But we made it. You're here with me now, and you're safe, and you're beautiful. All fine I suppose but, in moving on, do I need to open up all this grief again? Do I need to re-tell it? Even if its just for my own benefit? Does the pain need to be revisited again? Acknowledged and felt? Is it really necessary? It would be like scratching a wound after it has formed a scab... maybe leaving well enough alone is really the best way to go? Why remove the scab and let the wound bleed anew? Will not the scab fall off by itself when its ready? When the wound has healed, and new skin has formed? Yes! I hear a big yes rising from the depth of my soul. Now is not the time for probing, and examining, and revisiting. Now is the time for healing. Acknowledging, honoring, and healing. So be it. That takes us right back to the dreaded seventy I suppose! But... wait a minute... please, lets not rush headlong, blindly, and start burying “feelings” alive again. Where is the acknowledging that I just talked about a few sentences back? And the honoring? And the healing? Are we headed into denial again? Fear of facing pain? What about that old saying: what doesn't kill us makes us stronger, heh? You did not die, you're still here, and you're awake (finally!!). You are bound to be stronger right? Don't you feel it? So why the fear? Emotions are human. Grief and loss are human. Pain is human. So is the healing. And the rising above it. Open your eyes girl. You can't “go passed”, and “move on”, until you've dealt with your feelings. Good or bad, they're here for a reason, they need to be seen, and they need to be honored.
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About the Book
Never in her wildest dreams did author Zahia Fahmy believe she would be seventy years old. That’s ancient. That’s her grandmother. That’s an old, quirky aunt. As Fahmy comes to terms with her age, she explores the memories and life experiences that got her to where she is today. Waking Up to Seventy shares Fahmy’s slow awakening from grief to the shocking realization that seventy is but a few months away. In this memoir, she journeys through the streets of her beloved Alexandria and introduces her people and her family. Following the thread of grief of losing loved ones and the anger and denial that follows, Fahmy concludes that the human inner store of memories is, in fact, the only salvation. Remembrance is the soul’s warm, loving, and gentle way of guiding one to acceptance and to healing.
About the Author
Zahia Fahmy, born and raised in Egypt, attended a French Catholic school and earned a bachelor’s degree in accounting from the University of Alexandria. She and her husband emigrated to the United States where she realized a successful accounting career. A spiritual seeker, reader, and writer, Fahmy studied meditation, Kriya yoga, Jikiden Reiki, and other healing modalities. She and her husband currently live on a Greek island, home for more than thirty years.