She's clear-headed, in a good place, and grateful. An hour of intense conversation about the people who left an imprint in her life. The ones who helped her become what she is today.

“I’m here because of them. It all started with us eight.”

Jedo (grandpa), Teta (grandma), Tato (maternal aunt), Papa, mama, sister, and my brother, I take them all with me everywhere I go. They're on my license plate [Beirut 8] to remind me who I am and where I came from.

She prayed that God would keep them all. Josephine and her two siblings were raised by a little tribe. Grandpa, grandma, aunt, dad, and mom juggled the three. While each adult had their own character, they still synchronized and provided for them. Each took their space and naturally assumed a responsibility. Alpha roles were not their thing.

Mama maybe?

It must have been an experience to be with and around them. How did the three kids play the father and the mother to their own benefit, as all children do? In this case, all five. At José's Beirut-8 home, all five tangoed. It worked. Do you know her or any of the eight?

Ye shall know them by their fruit. Matthew 7:15–20 (KJV)

Papa

Her father was a romantic of the first degree. He left his finance job in Switzerland and turned down the Swiss nationality to return to Lebanon. He would drink and smoke, waiting for their garden roses to bloom and pick the most beautiful one. For her mom. Papa was a 24/7 poet. He taught the kids to love literature. He scheduled José's reading list and picked books from his personal library. As per Papa's plan, reading The Brothers Karamazov was at age 16.

On summer nights, he would call her. The little girl sat next to him while they counted the stars. Then, they would turn towards the horizon and gaze at the moon's reflection on the Mediterranean. "How many fishermen's boats are there? Count with me," he would ask José as her searching eyes looked into the darkness. That's how it was with him. He worked when he wanted to and loved them all.

She was close to him and said he understood the living game early on. Some will make the best of life because it is vulnerable, fragile, and fading. Others do their best during their time on Earth. And some live freely as life takes care of itself — her dad's outlook. She tried to convince Papa to stop drinking and smoking.

“It will kill you.”
“I have three wonderful kids. My mission is complete. The rest is not necessary.”

He died when she was 17. He lived and passed his way. She nurtures his memories, tenderness, and poetic soul.

Tato

Their mom's sister never married. She worked, lived with, and supported them: schools, cars, universities, and everything else. She considered them her own, and they loved their second mom. Auntie gave José her drive and ambition. She knows that she can achieve because of her. Tato's unconditional dedication and perseverance are José's North Star. When José reaches any milestone in her life, her aunt would be the first to hear about it.

Father grandpa

Jedo, the priest, was the sage of the village. The community sought him for spiritual, emotional, and financial support. He never owned a car or a phone. He was in charge of three parishes in Northern Lebanon. He served them on foot. His investment? A good pair of shoes to be replaced when they got worn out. His vices? A glass of Arak for lunch and exactly three cigarettes per day. No matter the weather, especially going uphill, he would not accept a ride.

“Father, it’s raining,” hop on. ابونا، عمبتشتَّي. طلاع.
“The road to heaven goes up.”طريق السما طلوع.

His day started at 5 am, working for two hours in his vegetable, fruit, and rose garden. Then, he would celebrate three masses in his three parishes before reading the Holy Book. Nature is God's temple. He contemplated in the garden. He watched the birds drink from the tip of his water hose, always with astonishment and refreshed awe. He would sit and gaze at the sea for long periods. Mother Earth was his temple.

"Come, José, come. Look at the sunset!" He would watch it sink into the sea every day with the same innocence and astonishment. Jedo was a man of God, a hard worker, a saint, and a liberal. He supported her to leave home for Beirut. He encouraged her to take her first steps towards independence as she wanted to get an apartment to live in and to use as a clinic. He said,

"I have one question. You know that we are in a society that does not accept that a woman lives alone. You are still not married. Would this affect you?
"Jedo, if someone is not going to marry me because of this, then I don't want him."

And that was it. He taught her to balance faith, money, and health. All in moderation.

Grandmama (téta)

When José's parents' house got hit with a bomb during the early years of the way, her parents moved to live with her maternal grandparents in Nahr Ibrahim. The family got larger overnight. Her grandmother was sweet, light-spirited, and tender. You couldn't help but laugh around her. She was funny and equally lazy. She was known as the 'wife of the priest,' the khouryeh. The khouryeh was an excellent cook. Regularly, villagers would drop by for advice from the parish priest.

Being the khouryeh and all, she had to stay presentable. Téta would change skirts several times a day efficiently. Unbuckle the skirt and drop it. Do the exact thing several times, leaving little cloth circles on the bedroom floor. It was easier to change that way. She stepped into a circle, lifted, buckled, and off she went. Sweet, lazy, funny, and a blessed good cook.

Mama

Her mom is solid and strong, with a present personality at the center of the home. She is the rock of the house. She kept everyone moving at their own pace and in their own direction yet kept them all together. She held the balance between her mother, father, husband, sister, and her three children. She was the peacemaker and the provider of tranquility. She balanced and still managed to have a continuous open house for parishioners and friends by throwing the most delicate and elegant parties. In José's eyes, mama is the hero.

There is more. José is grateful for way more people in her life. Beside her siblings…

Rouba

Rouba was… she teared up and kept quiet for the longest time.

As a young girl straight out of high school and searching for a major to study, José was interested in journalism (her dad's lineage and influence) and archeology (playing in their garden's dirt).

One day during the career fair that one woman invited her to consider speech therapy. She applied, competed for, and got one of the ten seats available that year. Rouba turned out to be the head of the department.

José remembers fixing herself to look pretty for the first day of classes. She walked in late. Rouba: "If we were in France, I wouldn't have let you in." Sassy José: "Good thing we are not in France." Rouba laughed it out and said she might like this student. Liking was an understatement.

Zeina, José's best friend, the one who showed her discipline and helped her build a schedule and better study, also became very close to Rouba. Rouba was a fighter, a devoted professor, a mentor, a friend, and an extraordinary person who lived with cancer for 10 years without complaining. She was the kind of person you wish was still alive. To keep giving. Rouba, the woman from Tripoli's Mina, was an atheist who converted and became a passionate believer overnight, lived her last days in a convent, and was buried there.

José's eyes went somewhere else. A place I couldn't see. I think Zeina was there also. It was genuine, deep, and impactful. Rouba completed something for those two young ladies. Lucky students, lucky professor

In harmony with self and Jonathan

She teared up again when she mentioned Jonathan. He is someone… you can't be around Jonathan and not want to be the best you can be. You cannot be around him and be average. You cannot. He pushes you to be the best version of yourself in the softest way: Spiritually, emotionally, and physically. I am more content and grateful because of Jonathan.

"He came at a time in my life and helped me apply everything I learned. I now understand life better."

Jonathan came into her life to seal the deal. He complements everyone's contribution to her life so far. He helps her self-actualize.

José is content with the harmony that is in her. She learns to live in the present and the Now. While she cried for all who left Beirut 8, she carried them with her. She celebrates them, the people in her life, and the ones to come. She lives to joyfully give back. She lives to pay it forward.

Today, thousands of miles from Beirut and Nahr Ibrahim, she pours her heart into her work and young family: husband, son, and mother-in-law, in harmony. She sips her Scotch at the end of the day like a poet. Their address became THE go-to place for many neighbors and friends: a chat, coffee, food, or the periodic drink like her Lebanese home.

That hour with José was a celebration of life. An ongoing life. Beautiful. Sweet. Adventurous. Humble. And most importantly, thankful. The little girl's eyes are still amused by everything, just like on those summer nights as she watched the stars with her father.

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José’s Starbucks ☕️ : Tall almond latté.