As far as I can remember, we could never pass an antique store without just “a quick peak”.  As a child this was so irritating since I did not appreciate the art and history behind each painting, statue, or piece of furniture.  My mother was a collector and at times would even day dream of having an antique shop herself.  Her main influences were anything that had an “Oriental” theme.  Oriental was an influence from the Middle East that was used in art and architecture in the 20th century.  It all seemed to work really well with our lifestyle since being a belly dancer was also very “Oriental”.

It wasn’t until I was a teenager that I noticed that our house and the condition of the house were getting in the way of my social life.  Our living room was more of a show room with amazing art and beautiful mother of pearl tables that sat along embroidered chairs and an amazing chaise from the Victorian era.  We never lived in the living room and each day we would only just walk through the living room on a small path that was set out by my mother lined with books and articles that were her supporting material used while writing her history book.

My room was my home and the kitchen the heart of the house, but the rest of the home was filled and unable to live in.  I wanted to have a living room with a couch that I could sit on and a TV that I could watch movies on and invite friends over and be able to “hang out” in the living room.  On my 14th birthday I had a sleep over with 5 other girls.  While running through the house in our pajamas one of my friends accidentally knocked over an inlayed chair with mother of pearl.  As the chair fell I could feel my mother’s heart stop.  When the chair hit the floor all the mother of pearl pieces popped out in slow motion and slid across the floor.  The floor was filled with little white pieces of mother of pearl and we all stopped running.  Not to make all us teenagers feel bad, my mother quickly assured us that it was “okay” and told us to go ahead and have fun.  She cleaned up all the mother of pearl that night and never said a word of disappointment to me.  I knew she must have felt horrible, but she also knew it was time to make a change.

The next day she began to make phone calls.  She called all her friends and students that she knew that would appreciate the art and began to place prices on these family heirlooms.  She did not want to sell anything, but our house could not fit all the artwork plus accommodate a more user friendly way of life.  Being a teenager I was more interested in having a home life I could use and not just look at.  My mother really didn’t want to sell the pieces of art and felt bad having to separate each item.  When Aida came over with a large lump sum for all the items, my mother agreed and felt it was a quick and painless way of accomplishing our goal.  She felt Aida, whom was her right hand, was the only one that would really appreciate the “stuff”.  My mother never looked back and the day after Aida came and got the “stuff” we went to Macy’s and bought a couch, TV, and coffee table.

Aida always told me that she is saving my “stuff” for when I’m older.  I thought it was a nice gesture and felt that her desire to hold onto my family heirlooms was very selfless.  I guess I didn’t really think she would wait for me to grow up, appreciate all the antiques, be settled enough to have them in my own home, and make the exchange.  It was a nice thought, but kind of just a dream.

When Aida moved away from Berkeley in the early 80’s and went to Detroit I was devastated.  Since I was a child I always remember Aida being in our life.  We baked together, sang Girl Scout songs together, and shared the need for the love and approval from my mother.  She was like an aunt/sister to me.  I had daydreams of being older and having my own driver’s license to be able to drive us to have coffee together, just her and I.  I thought she would take over my mother’s school and hold down the fort while I traveled the world.  I also thought that her and my mother, no matter how dramatic the relationship was, seemed like the Oprah and Gail relationship that I looked up to.  So when Aida left I felt a huge part of my life and family was gone.  But I always knew why she needed to travel and eventually she settled in Detroit and fell in love.

I received an email from Aida around 8 months ago.  She told me that she saw that I was coming to Detroit for a workshop and was excited to see me.  I had been keeping in touch with Aida from time to time through the years and our desire to stay close was always what motivated each contact.  She had recently experienced the death of her partner and felt very strongly about me coming over to her home while I was in Detroit.  Since her partner was taken so quickly from her life, she wanted to make sure my “stuff” got to back to me at this point in my life.  She felt that the time was right and I was old enough and ready for the return of inheritance.   She was going to “will” it to me, but why not allow me to enjoy it while she too was still alive.

I felt in shock and speechless.  I wanted these antiques more than anything and felt so humbled to the fact that she really was allowing me to have them again in my life.  She was so selfless in her feelings towards me and my family and this was truly a homecoming.  Not only did she take out a loan to buy all the “stuff” from my mother over 25 years ago, but now she was not allowing me to purchase them back from her, she was giving them to me.  She felt it was her duty as my aunt/sister and wanted me to know how much she loved me. 

After my performance in Detroit Aida came back stage.  She was so proud of how I have grown up and what I have become in the dance world.   She has saved every Christmas photo of me and my family and dreams of meeting Isabella someday.  It was like no time had passed and we began to tell stories of the “good old days” back in Kensington baking cookies in the kitchen while my mother was writing her history book in the dining room.  The next night I arrived at her home.  As I walked up the steps my heart was pounding.  I couldn’t wait to see the artwork.  These beautiful pieces represented so much of my life, childhood, my mother, and Bal Anat.  I felt like I was in a time warp going back in time.  I held each piece and felt that memory come right back in my heart.  I was shaking as I was able to hold again the full length assuit coat my mother sold in order to pay for the building of my doll house.  This coat was still in the same condition it was when my mother sold it to her, and never worn.   I felt guilty allowing Aida to give me it all back, but she was ready and so excited to see her dream that she planned 25 years ago finally come true.  She told me that she had imagined this moment all these years and here it was.  I couldn’t say thank you enough and felt sad to leave her when it got too late.

As I left her home that night I asked her one last time if I could pay her back.  She laughed and said that someday I can pay her back in another way.  The idea of family is beyond money.  It is a silent code of honor that means we will take care of each other and without knowing have someone watching out for your needs even if you don’t realize you need something.