Four years ago my husband went on a trip to visit the Shia shrines and sites in Iran. He was gone for a month while I stayed home with a 7, 6, and 3 year old. Upon his return, I discovered he had applied and was accepted to the
Hawza, or seminary for Shia studies in
Qom, Iran. He suggested to me that we take up the offer and move there. I said, "No way."
Fast forward to a few months later and we had come to a sort of compromise. He would quit his full time job as high school teacher, we'd rent out our 3 bedroom house, pack up and move to Florida. What was there was one of the only Shia seminaries in the United States. It wasn't the full-on immersion of study that my husband wanted, but for me, it was an easier transition than moving all the way to Iran.
After 3 years in Florida, the seminary relocated to California. So we moved there.
It was in California where I finally caught my breath and accepted that there'd be no turning back to our typical, comfortable life in Texas with income and health insurance and friends and family. Living in California with my husband having already studied as much as that seminary could offer, seemed like a dead end with him not advancing in his study but still volunteering at the school. So, my mind slowly flipped to the idea of moving to Iran.
The kids were older now, and I had slowly experienced the stages of grief that come when your 30 plus years of Norman Rockwell notions about your future slowly die, so it seemed a bit easier.
Now, it's been just a little over a month since my husband has been gone, searching for a place for us to live near Qom, Iran. I'm fortunate enough to have parents and family that are giving me and my children a safe and comfortable harbor in their Texas home until we can be reunited with my husband in Iran.
I could tell you in detail about the hardships that have occurred, the internal mental and emotional storms I've endured and am enduring--but I won't. I had tried over the years to reach out to the other wives of men who wanted or are studying in Qom. They offered some support and positivism, but what I really needed to hear from them was the nitty gritty pain that they might have felt to belong in this group of Hawza wives. I needed to know that what I was feeling was common or real or even valid. I understand now why they did not open up to me as much. Still, if there's anyone out there struggling, I'd be happy to share my details if it'd help. Or perhaps, I am unique in my situation since most women with husbands studying in Iran's Hawza are younger, not close to 40 with preteen children.
I've come to realize / learn much about my own thinking and assumptions as related to major aspects of life from marriage to women's rights, from lifestyle and God. It was not a gentle process. And it's still churning away at times, putting my emotions and mental state into a sort of danger. But I'm ready.
I'm ready to move to Iran.
Now I just have to wait.
