Vera’s 73rd birthday is just around the corner. And like most moms, Vera Kalil has raised a family with a remarkable spirit of sacrifice and support. But her self-denial often went beyond what might be perceived as a mother’s call of duty, and the day she left behind everything she owned and moved her family from Cairo to New York was a day that distinguished her as a woman of superior grace and extraordinary resilience. Little did she know this experience would simply usher her into a life of unexpected demands and afflictions.
The early 1960s were rampant with political change and widespread deterioration in Egypt, the land of Vera’s birth. Although she enjoyed a cushy life in a lavish condo set in a prestigious country club community, she and her husband Frank could not ignore the worsening conditions in her previously tranquil homeland. With two young pre-school kids and their future to consider, Frank, who worked for the Egyptian government as the head of the Geological Survey, became increasingly concerned about the weakening political climate and made the difficult choice to move his family out of the country in pursuit of a safe and secure life.
He and Vera announced to family and friends they were taking an extended trip to the Mediterranean. Although in fact this is what they did, they were also simply waiting for the arrival of the legal documents permitting them entry into the United States. Since Frank was a high-level official, to leave Egypt with the government’s blessing was out of the question, so he fled under the premise of a well-disguised vacation.
Moving out of one’s familiar surroundings and into a new country is daunting for most people, and everyone in Vera’s family suffered from some form of culture shock. Vera and Frank were tri-lingual, fluent in French, Arabic and English; and although the kids were both bi-lingual, they did not speak a lick of English. They felt alienated and confused. Frank, who enjoyed a privileged position as a prominent government official, was unable to find comparable work in America, so he began to work in construction. And because everything they owned, including the furniture, clothing and wealth was left behind, Vera had to find employment to help make ends meet.
Life in every way was hard those first few years. Vera even found grocery shopping to be complicated; who knew animals get to have their own packaged foods in America? She soon learned this after mistakenly purchasing tuna meant for cats. Watching television was not the pleasant experience previously enjoyed, since every show was now in a complex foreign language.
One year passed and Frank and Vera felt life on the West Coast might be a better option for their misplaced family. But the move to California only brought up new fears, as the foursome felt anxious about having to face more new challenges. Nevertheless, the family made the pilgrimage to the West Coast and settled in Santa Monica. And after months of unemployment, Frank found another construction job, and Vera found work at the Research Library at U.C.L.A. Life was difficult, but it was good.
Five years later, Vera and the family received citizenship papers and became official Americans. But that didn’t dissolve their deep-seated feelings of alienation due to the overt and covert cultural obstacles that face foreigners at every level. Vera never particularly felt like she belonged and always remembered “home” was in another land, very far away.
In time, things settled; Frank was able to secure a position with the United States government in the geological survey department, and soon became the supervisor of its Pacific Coast division. Vera’s son graduated from USC, got a job at Dodger Stadium and soon became the Director of Advertising of the organization. Her daughter got married and had kids, and Vera finally quit her job to graciously help her raise them.
Vera always considered the hardship she experienced simply helped make her a stronger person. Good thing — because there was more hardship to come: Her daughter divorced and found herself raising three kids alone. Of course, Vera a devoted mother and grandmother, helped bear the brunt of the childcare while her daughter worked three jobs. One year following, her grandmotherly duties were more needed than ever when her daughter suffered a near-fatal car accident that left her handicapped for months.
She might have regretted exposing her family to this new way of life that seemed to find trouble at every turn; but she didn’t. With every challenge, she seemed to rise to the occasion. Trouble seemed to tease her sense of generosity but the more she endured the more she gave. As a businesswoman, she gave away her commissions to clients who were worse off financially than she was. To neighbors and acquaintances, she extended an invitation of earnest friendship. To her friends, she granted unwavering loyalty and genuine connection. To her family, she offered undying commitment, unmatched love and boundless affection. In times of trouble (and there were many), she was always the first one on the scene and stayed long after others left. Every holiday was celebrated in her home as she entertained friends and helped the strangers she invited feel like family. She was legitimately dedicated to the people who found their way into her circle of love and that circle was large and inclusive.
Vera found her greatest challenge at age 66 when doctors discovered an incurable uterine sarcoma that ravaged through her body. With each successive surgery, there was more bad news; she suffered with two primary types of terminal cancers and one of them had brutally metastasized. She was given six months to live. Yet her will to live was only so she could be available to her family, who could still not imagine life without her. Her grandkids sat at her bedside for months as she battled this raging disease and underwent a variety of treatment.
Having spent so much time in the hospital, Vera made friends with the nurses. Make that all the nurses, physicians, techs and administrative staff. With every visit, she packed a bag full of goodies; cookies for that one, toys for this one’s kids, etc. At times, she’d bring in Egyptian food she spent hours preparing even though she was sick and frail. And on the day she took her last breath, Vera wanted every nurse in the oncology unit to take a sliver-plated angel, a special symbolic gift she had me, her daughter, hunt all over town to find.
Watching a loving and devoted mother die is an excruciating process. Fortunately, as someone so aptly said, having just one mother, we only have to go through this grueling experience once in a lifetime. Even as she was dying, mom’s concern was not for her own agony, but she apologized she was leaving me to handle the impending problems she considered yet unsolved. Her 67 years on earth were brief, yet effective. Her silent strength was appreciated but underestimated … until I watched her lie powerless, waging a courageous, internal war with a vicious cancer. One and a half years past her 6-month death sentence, mom passed away peacefully while I was with her in her hospital room. She had finally escaped a life filled with unrelenting adversity. Her faith in God helped her navigate those last difficult months with grace and notable fortitude. And as each nurse tearfully approached her wilted body after she had passed, it was clear that Vera’s life made an impact on others in a way she never realized.
June 29th would have been my mom’s 73rd birthday. I promised her I would never forget her, and I want to take this chance to honor her as the most courageous mover and shaker I have ever known.