Remembering Nan Khotun

Nan Khotun passed away this morning.  I met her in November 2004 when M and I were dating.  It was the first time I was meeting the family and I was so nervous.  But it was nan Khotun who put me at ease as I walked through the door into her open arms as tears ran down her eyes - even though we couldn't speak to each other (we didn't have a common language), I could tell she was very happy to have me in her grandson's life.  During dinner with the family, nan Khotun sat right next to me and I could feel her staring at me when she told M (who then interpreted for me) that even though she couldn't see very well, she thought I was beautiful.  She went on to say that this was the first time a grandchild ever brought home their partner to meet her and she was very happy.  From then on I knew this woman was special.  She was like M's mom and even though she had been through a lot in her 84 years of life (including the murder of her youngest son many years ago when he was in his 30s), nan Khotun always had a way to make people laugh. 

After living and working in Tajikistan for 3.5 years, I was leaving to come back home to Canada.  One afternoon, I told her and M's grandfather that I was going back home because my contract was over.  Nan Khotun asked me if I was going to come back to which M's grandfather chimed in with "why would she come back if her contract is finished."  Nan Khotun responded with "don't you know anything about love?"  And that shut M's grandfather up for the rest of our conversation.  It was a very funny scene.  And then there was the time when M and I visited in 2007.  After an 18-hour bumpy and dusty ride from Dushanbe to Khorog , we arrived at nan Khotun's house late at night.  We immediately went to sleep and when I greeted nan Khotun in the morning, she immediately asked "what's wrong with you hair" referring to its messiness after the journey.

Nan Khotun was M's 'mother' and grandmother and she was a very special woman.  I'm sad that she never got to see K (we are planning on visiting Tajikistan later this year) but am happy that she knew about him. 

Even though K is only 2.5 years old, I feel like he understands more than we think.  On our way home from daycare this evening, I told K what happened and I explained that nan Khotun is tat's (Shugni word for father) babushka (Russian word for grandmother) and Babushka Gulanor's mommy.  I told him she lived in Tajikistan and now she is gone.  He came home and went to M and said "sorry about nan Khotun" and then told me that tat is sad because nan Khotun went away to Tajikistan.  It was really cute.

Nan Khotun will be missed.