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Opinion

Op-Comic: My grandmother and I didn’t share a common language, but we didn’t need one

Comic panel of a grandmother drawing on a pad for a child, who is wearing a magician's hat and sitting on her lap.
By Navied Mahdavian
My earliest memory of my Iranian grandmother is of her hands. They were soft, the product of years of diligent moisturizing
When I saw her for the last time, I meant to draw her hands. "It's me, Navied." [Image of hands hugging someone's back]
She would draw for me as a child. "It's called a bolbol*." *Nightingale [Image: a grandmother drawing for a child on her lap]
And she always encouraged my sleight of hand. [Image: A man pulls a quarter from behind the ear of a woman in a hospital bed]
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My Persian never progressed beyond that of a 6-year-old, but we had art and illusions. [Image: a magic trick between hands]
Words were never that important anyway. "Do that again, Navied." [Image: grandmother in a hospital bed with grandson by side]

Navied Mahdavian is a cartoonist and writer. He is a contributor to the New Yorker and author of the graphic memoir “This Country: Searching for Home in (Very) Rural America.”

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