John Oliver Smith lived by the water in Annapolis and loved to sail particularly to Solomon’s Island-a haven for wild birds. Of Irish ancestry, he was an Environmental Engineer and had traveled widely across the Middle East and Asia.

I wrote him an email in April of 2003, a brief note saying that I had last sailed on the Nile River in the 1970’s and that as we were both Aries we could perhaps be dangerous together. We began corresponding through email, we joked about both being stubborn, although eventually we would find that we both were supportive of each others’ faith, his as Catholic, and mine as Muslim, each realizing we had common religious origins going back to the Prophet Abraham.

He said his family were hardworking people from the mid-West who had persevered through difficult times because of the strength of their character. He admitted to skeletons in his closet, but said it is how we deal with those mistakes and our kindness towards others that is our legacy. 

Writing about his father and grandfather, he said that there were so many unpleasant choices they had been forced to make because of circumstance,"But what underlies their lives is the issue of character, and the courage never to give up,” he said, adding: “I have had some trouble in my life and it is the character of those people who would be disappointed of my poor choices and most forgiving of the those choices I have made, that has provided me with a moral compass.” He ended by saying: “It is this compass that we leave or should leave to our children. After all, it is what we have been given and it is only for us to pass it on.”

John then wrote me his favorite saying from Teddy Roosevelt - Far better is it to dare mighty things, even though checkered by failure, than to dwell in that perpetual twilight that knows not victory nor defeat. It was as if my grandmother Helen were saying it. I too, through the splendor of my quest had become more of a follower of free will.

We finally decided to meet after several weeks of writing.  At the last minute I became nervous and almost cancelled but when he wrote that if that is how I felt then we could just be friends, I wanted to meet him all the more.  We decided to meet on a Friday evening at a restaurant near NPR so I could walk over from the office.  That day my girlfriends briefed me on the ways to escape should this turn out badly, one of them would call me shortly after we met to provide me an “emergency” at the office so I would have to leave.

I nervously left the office to walk to the restaurant, as I crossed the street I recognized his distinguished salt and pepper hair and blue eye immediately from a photo he had sent. He smiled broadly.  Our connection was not just physical but spiritual.  We sat in the restaurant and talked for hours, about our ideals, our children, and families.  I received the “escape” call from my friend at the office but told her it wasn’t necessary.  From the restaurant we drove to Georgetown in his yellow Jeep Wrangler and walked by the river where the lights of Kennedy Center reflect on the water. 

As we walked along the Potomac River, we mused, which of our life experiences had belonged to the domain of the mysterious, the spiritual? We spoke of the natural and spiritual power of our ancestors and how they are awake in our unconsciousness. We decided we would never be able to solve the paradox of life and death, soul and spirit. We said that we had stayed bound to the earth for the sake of our children and now perhaps we had found someone to journey with.  I took his hand and pulled him close, I felt safe. For the first time in a very long time, I felt safe.

Over time John and I became best friends and found that to be the basis for our romance. It never seemed to matter that he was raised in Lima, Ohio, and I in Tehran, Iran.  We loved being together, alone and talking.  John had four sons and with my four children those moments were going to become precious and few.  Both professionals with demanding jobs, negotiating time for each other was going to be a challenge.  But neither of us saw this as a hindrance, and decided to begin sharing the joy and laughter our chaotic lives brought to us.  In fact life’s demands would make our relationship stronger over time.

Our time became one of celebrating family and each other in our own oasis of serenity off the Severn River.  Sundays would begin with the preparation of our magnificent Sunday brunches.  All of the children who were home for the weekend from college or school would prepare different parts of the feast while John grilled his famous London broil.  Someone else would make the Belgium waffles, another the scrambled eggs and turkey bacon, and still another the home fries.  Fresh fruit would be set out, coffee made and orange juice.  In the warm months we would eat outdoors, in the winter all around one large table.  This has become our one meal together during the week so we relish the good food, conversation and laughter.  Dessert is often a milkshake made in the antique Hamilton Beach milkshake maker that John’s father used to welcome John home from college when he was young.

John still pursues sailing although he has given up yacht racing for the family.  For the Fourth of July one year, he took my older children Saied and Samira for a day of sailing down to Annapolis where we ate dinner and watched fireworks from the deck of our sailboat. My little boys spend the weekends with their father in Virigina but on occassional Sundays, my son Aman loves to go out with John on little sailboats called snarks and enjoy the river near our house.  My youngest son Amir and John will work on the sailboat together or do chores fixing things around the house.

John’s oldest son Zachary goes to Duquesne Law School.  John’s sons Michael and Daniel go to different campuses of Pennsylvania State University. His youngest son Joseph is a sophmore in high school. The Smith boys are as talented as they are handsome and smart.  For years, they have performed various roles in the Nutcracker as part of their mother’s dance studio in Lancaster County, PA.

John and his brother Jim went to Ohio State.  There are great rivalries when Ohio State and Penn State have played each other.  We’ve made several trips to Ohio, which John says is the east of the mid-west and that my grandmother Helen, who was from Idaho, is the western edge of the Midwest.  I feel that there is a similarity in their culture, my family and his.  The Midwestern stoicism, warmth and kindness are evident and through them I have gained an insight into my midwestern roots. 

During the holidays our house has become the focal point for extended family gatherings.  Like the days in Iran, the Bahktiar’s dorehs (gatherings), we celebrate our family, my mother comes from Chicago, Aunt’s and cousins come from Annapolis and DC, and, of course, Uncle Jamshid is there to entertain us with his wonderful stories of his life and our family. 

John’s boys have come to enjoy the Persian New Year or Noruz as well.  They have embraced the season and all love to stay for our annual celebration and Persian feasts.  For Noruz one spring, John and his son Michael wore the classic Bahktari tribal outfits that my cousin Lailee had bought on a trip to the Bakhtiari region of Iran.  They both looked so proud in the garb usually worn by the tribesmen during local celebrations.

These are joyful days; our house is full of music and laughter.  John grew up in a large family and so he supports these gatherings too. On occasion, I enjoyed joining him for Sunday Mass at Saint Mary’s, a historic Gothic-style Roman Catholic church in Annapolis.  I did this not only because I wanted to show respect to his beliefs but also because I had a yearning to learn about the principles of the religion of my American forbearers. 
This Gothic church was constructed in 1858 on the property of a revolutionary patriot and signer of the Declaration of Independence, Charles Carroll.  Carroll fought for religious freedom for Catholics who, until the nation guaranteed freedom of religion, were unable to publicly worship in Maryland.

Listening to the voices of parishioners from all walks of life, young and old, holding hands to recite the Lords Prayer in unison was breathtaking.  “ . . . Thy will be done on earth as it is in heaven.” I was only beginning to understand the core of his faith.  John’s favorite prayer is the prayer of St. Francis: “Divine Master, grant that I may not so much seek to be consoled as to console; to be understood as to understand; to be loved as to love. For it is in giving that we receive; it is in pardoning that we are pardoned; and it is in dying that we are born to eternal life.”

Our quiet acceptance of each other and our individual faith in God and the joy our children brought to us made us even stronger. We have both faced failure. This has changed us forever-humbled us-and like a great teacher, taught us how to see what really matters.

John seemed to know me inside out.  He would say ‘If you seek comfort, you will neither find truth nor comfort.  If you seek truth, in the end you will find comfort.” He wanted to help me find comfort within myself.  In the safety of this loving relationship and knowing that my children were being raised in a peaceful home, I spent a good deal of time in self-analysis trying to develop patience. I found a deep inner strength as if my emotions were profoundly linked to the stream of my life. My imagination focused through the creative instincts in my mind that brought me success at home and at work.

In finding my true self, I continue in my devotion to moderation, balance and harmony.  I believe in the courage and moral codes laid down by my American and Iranian ancestors; and to the temperance and consciousness manifested by my mother and father. I know that I will only be able to improve by constantly evaluating my self and acting for the common good.