Iraq: Part II "Foreign Exchange Sales Teams"...... by Julianna Rowe

 Part II continued:   Iraq:  

Back in my room I secretly longed to be in the heart and arms of that man, Ari. Was this the reason for my journey? What now? As I lay thinking of his touch I passed into sleep. The next day I awoke to believing it must all be a dream stemming from the magnificent surroundings of the Hotel with its majestic interiors of gold and grand food. Maybe I had eaten something that caused these deliriums. Yet there was Ari to greet me with a gentle good morning. In his own language he called me his beautiful woman. Again, we lay for some time bathing in one an other's love. Later that day I began thinking how could this work? Then I didn't care, I just knew it would.

The limousine came for our team the day we were to fly back to America.  Ari was supposed to meet me with a plan for our future, but he did not.  I couldn't find Ari. I was frantic with search, yet I had to leave. My visiting pass was up which meant if I stayed, I would be held in contempt of travel and detained in a foreign country by its officials. 

Ari, where are you? We must plan, Ari, Ari.

As the plane took off my eyes welled with a flooding mixture of agonies. The pain, loss, sadness, and despair were almost unbearable. Did he use me? No. That was not what we had! Yet I didn't hear from Ari for three months. I left sales and went into a different small scale home business. I had lost my boldness and drive and I was not the same sales leader and business woman. Ari's love removed, left a deep scar on my heart. It touched every part of my life as love truly does for without it I felt I had lost so much, and I was without it.

My Mother saw I wasn't the same as before my trip to Iraq. She inquired as to my duress and I relayed to her my story. She asked me if I had tried to contact Ari. I had. The lines of communication to Baghdad were very limited. I had also tried writing with no response. I told Mother I would even wear the Berta if necessary, to be with Ari. Mother was in shock. She left my house that day rather speechless as she realized the extent of my desires, but what could she say? I had fallen deeply in love with a gentle man from Iraq, who was missing.

About a week later my doorbell rang. I wasn't expecting anyone. I answered the door and almost sank to the floor when I saw Ari standing before me. I jumped into his arms and we held tightly to one another for a long time. I didn't even think to say, Why? Where? What? Nothing. I just held to him. He told me he needed heart surgery and had come to America to have the surgery which was tomorrow. He told me he would return for me. He wouldn't let me ask any more questions and he walked away after assuring me he would return and when he did, he would explain everything. I had regained my trust in him although I didn't understand why I couldn't be with him through his surgery and recovery.  Iraqi men do not argue, they tell you the way it will be and you listen.  Not that they are harsh, rather Ari was unemotional and able to weigh situations in a more businesslike yet loving manner.  Seemingly he knew the outcome and how to best attain it. I trusted him for some unknown earthly reason.

Ari returned after his healing time. He ensured me the love we shared had gotten him through with no complications. When he came to my door he came with hundreds of gifts. Beautiful gifts for my family and friends. It was bigger than Christmas. It was almost as magnificent spiritually as the Hotel where I met him in Iraq. Ari pulled me to him and told me of his undying love for me. He told me either I come with him to his country now this day, or he would return in January to be with me in my country. I was speechless. This man I had met six months ago was sickly and frail with unkempt hair. Our love had transformed him spiritually and physically as it had me. I was looking at a stunningly handsome deep tanned man with clean cut hair and deep loving dark eyes. I guess my friends Mother was right. Those men do love women with blonde hair and a bit larger derriere.

I asked Ari to give me a few minutes to think how to arrange things.  I walked into another room while Ari patiently waited. 

Suddenly in front of me what seemed like from nowhere was a very beautiful Iraqi woman holding the hand of a small child.  She stared at me with the exact same eyes as Ari did the first time I saw him at the feast in Iraq. All I could think or see in her was Ari. Did he have a wife already? Was that her? Oh Lord God of all, please lead and guide me here. She never spoke, only looked deep in my eyes as Ari did. The child seemed quite content and quiet playing on the floor. At that moment I knew I had to fight for what I wanted and that was Ari. No matter who she was.  I was about to leave her and the child and run back to Ari in fear when she walked over and put her hand on my arm while looking into my soul with appreciation and a kindness that wasn’t of the earth. She smiled and gave my arm a squeeze of approval.  I felt love from her.  Who in the name of God was that woman in my living room?  Yet I felt no fear.  I turned toward the room where I had left Ari, looked back at her and the child, but they were gone.  Where did they go?  Where did they come from? My thoughts were I would deal with her later and believed she left out the back way. I was so emotional due to Ari’s showing up out of the blue I dismissed her and the child from my mind.  I ran back to the arms of the man I had fallen in love with.

I told Ari the decision was his. I would leave with him today or wait for him to return. He said with the state his country was in at present he would prefer my safety for now. He would return to me in January. That would give me time to make more responsible arrangements.

The thought of the woman and child came back to me and I shared her with Ari.  As I described her to him while asking if he had brought his sister with him to help him through his surgery and recovery, I noticed the tears in his eyes begin to fall down his beautifully tanned handsome face one by one each telling a story of love and pain.  Ari asked me what the boy looked like.  For some reason I didn’t ask why, rather I described the sweet boy while adding the vivid memory of the woman walking to me, squeezing my arm in some sort of approval.  Ari’s tears ceased.  He took my hands in his and told me the woman was the spirit of his deceased wife and son.

The woman and child that were visiting me in the other room of my home had been killed in an Iraqi bombing a few years before. I knew then, as Ari did, her spirit had led me to Iraq, pushing me towards Ari all the while knowing I would love him forever as she had intended to. And so, I did.  Ari joined me in the United States bringing with him his riches and glory.  We moved to Washington D.C. where he became a dignitary for relations between the United States and Iraq until it was no longer possible.  Ari became an American citizen and we then opened our own Insurance company adding sales teams all over the country with availability to trade teams with peaceful countries all over the world.  Not to mention we had a few of our own little ones to add to the census of the United States of America, for which it stands, one nation, under God, with Liberty and Justice for all.