I grew older.
A quiet child most of the time,
yet playful when the moment allowed it.
Polite.
Well-mannered.
Loved by those around me.
I began school in Saudi Arabia,
where life felt simple,
clear,
and filled with small things
we never realize the value of until we lose them.
We used to visit Gaza occasionally—
short visits,
passing moments…
like pauses between chapters.
But the visit in 1994
was different.
It wasn't a visit.
It was the end of one chapter…
and the beginning of another.
A return
with no coming back.
Although I did not spend many years in Saudi Arabia,
its memories stretched deep within me.
I remember details that may seem ordinary to others—
but to me, they were an entire life:
Ghous, the man at the small shop nearby,
his smile, the way he spoke…
the park we used to visit,
our laughter filling the air,
family trips into the desert,
the supermarket…
and countless moments
that cannot be written—
only felt.