I’m telling you a story of my memories…
It was at the beginning of the 2013 summer; it was a rainy day and it was my last day in Sweden that time. As always, I got lost, I took the wrong metro and therefore it took me an hour to know the right direction and to go back to Hornstull where you all were waiting for me at the Stage bar. I had never met you before. I was nervous, how will it be to sit at the same table with lesbians, two married women! I was the shy, conservative Arabic girl who hadn’t discover the world yet.
Eventually I arrived, I put my shopping bag under the table while you asked me in a very friendly way ‘show us what you bought’. I didn’t do it, I didn’t know how to behave and talk, because I was still nervous. I only said, ‘I bought some gifts for my family in Gaza’.
One year later, I moved to live in Sweden. I was thrilled of my new life, excited and afraid of new things. Everything was new, even the air of this country was new.
Then, Eva, I met you again. It was at the same bar, Stage. I was still nervous. But meeting after meeting, I realized how wonderful you were. You and your wife, Camilla, were very curious about me as an Arab and about my culture.
At that time, I was newly coming out from a war and I needed friends, or someone to talk about what I left and what I carried in my heart and memories from my home city. And you were always there to listen to me and to pat my shoulder.
It became a part of my daily routine, to pass by Stage to check if you were there, so I could join you and Camilla. It was my best part of the day, to see you and talk about anything. You were my ideal of the strong woman who pushed me to change my life and to say ‘No’. You were also the big sister for me who gave me advises without hesitating.
Last week, I passed by Stage and went inside, I wanted to see you there, as before, and to join you, but there were only memories of you.
I’m one of many of those who learnt a lot from you.
You planted memories in us, and they will bloom forever.
Sleep well.