What I remember about my brother: I remember his ever smiling face every time the family met. I remember his advices to us about the difficulties of life and how to deal with them. I remember his modesty when riding in the car, by sitting in the front seat next to the driver. I remember him reading the obituaries page of the daily newspaper searching for the names of those who passed away that day, in order to pay his condolences. I remember him as the perfect host at his generous eating invitations at his home, asking every one “what do you like to drink?” I remember the different trips we made together to the “Mexican Riviera” and the “Nile River”. How much we enjoyed the company of each other. I remember how he used to hand out discretely, the minute we enter the restaurant, his credit card to the waiter so that he will be the one to pay the bill at the end of the meal, even though he is the guest of honor. I remember the phone calls and the e-mail messages that he used to send me on the Birthdays and Anniversaries of our son, Waleed, and my brother-in-law, George. He never missed a year. I remember his early morning visits to my chalet after his daily jogging exercises in Holiday Beach. I remember him going out of his way to make our stay in Beirut very entertaining by going through the weekly functions at the different theaters and booking tickets for all interested to attend. I remember him reading the “Mass Readings” at Ste. Rita church in Holiday Beach. He never missed the weekly mass unless he was out of town. I remember him carrying the lighted candle while the priest is reading the Gospel of the day. He never missed an occasion to portray his brotherly feelings of love to me.

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