If I had known that I was shaving your beard for the last time, I would have procrastinated while removing the tiny hairs on your temples on the pretext of perfectly softening those cheeks; just to gain a few more minutes to spend with you. I would have repeatedly moved the razor over the same spots over and over again and taken numerous unneeded caesuras just to prolong that last shaving session.
If I had known that I was shaving your beard for the last time, I would have approached your ear to whisper the things I had always wanted to say but never could. I know that you wouldn’t have understood my words due to your condition, yet I’m full of remorse now for not uttering those words of distress and regret over the unnecessary suffering I put you through, back when I was a naive young guy possessed by obstinacy and rebelliousness.
If I had known that I was shaving your beard for the last time, I would have made it extra soft and maybe trimmed your sideburns a bit nicer to give you the look that fits the grandeur of the place you’re now in; that splendid paradise you have always believed in. Make sure to enrich it with your keen wit, scathing sense of humour and provocative criticism; adhering to that set of traits with which your character always oozed lavishly; the character that some people didn’t like, but doubtless no one ever disrespected.
If I had known that I was shaving your beard for the last time, I would have given you a proper farewell and reassured you that everything will be all right and that you shouldn’t worry about anything. I would have told you that you’ll be granted a very dignifed funeral that will immortalise your memory in a gathering of all those once blessed by your impactful presence in their lives.
I would have told you that your death will accomplish something I had not been able to do for years; namely, achieving reconciliation between two close friends of mine separated by a massive contention. My eyes were extremely sad to see them turn into vicious adversaries and I could not bridge the rift between them, but their shared grief over your departure was the magical remedy that dissolved their dispute entirely. I would have told you that your coffin will be held on tens of shoulders, your grave will be dug by tens of hands and your forehead will be kissed by tens of lips before we lay you down to your final rest.
If I had known I was shaving your beard for the last time, I would have thanked you for countless things: for being my first mentor, who taught me how to write through the letters we exchanged when you were expatriated in the land of hardship to provide for us and fulfil all of our unceasing demands; for enthusiastically sacrificing yourself for our sake; for raising visions and not just hollow sons and daughters; for teaching us how to laugh when we’re woebegone in the core. And, most importantly, I would have thanked you for making me fall in love with music – the only thing that has never disappointed me in my life.
If I had known I was shaving your beard for the last time, I would have told you not to fear or lament your demise, for this world is too vile to embrace a beautiful soul such as yours, and that you deserve a sempiternal abode in an unreachable horizon, a mythical sky or in my bereaved memory that will never let you go.
Goodbye, Daddy.
Your vision, your son,
Abdallah
RIP Hamed Habayeb
1 January 1940 – 21 August 2014
