Salwa Khalil

5/14/1944 - 4/7/2020

Salwa Khalil was beloved by many. She was one of those people that made everyone laugh and feel loved. She was a warrior, a fighter, and a follower of Christ. She defied the odds countless times, but unfortunately lost the battle on April 7, 2020 at 7:32 am. She was a woman of many hats—a daughter, a sister, a mother, a grandmother, a great grandmother, and a friend. Salwa is survived by many—her children: Takla, Siham, Samar, and Elias; her grandchildren: Sandra, Grace, and Dona Maria; her great grandson, Gianni; and her siblings: Takla, Marie, Milad, and Antoinette.

We want the world to know her story because only that can relay how massive of a loss this truly is.

Salwa was pulled out of school at 11 years old to care for her mother and five siblings after a horrible accident paralyzed her mom. At 11 years old, she became the woman of the house. She cooked. She cleaned. She loved. By age 30 she had birthed 10 children and buried 6 of them—5 sons and 1 daughter, who she is finally reunited with.

In 1980, in the midst of the Lebanese civil war, Salwa and her family’s house was bombed.

In 1981, the city of Zahle was seized by militants. Salwa’s two youngest daughters were in school in Zahle. Salwa, who lived in a different town, over 10 miles away, walked… she walked to Zahle, dodged snipers actively shooting at her, and reached the school. She tells us that she had to crawl for over a mile to not be shot. She found her two daughters and another little girl, from a neighboring town (her mother was terminally ill with cancer). Salwa took all three girls and ran with them out of Zahle and back to safety. Once her children were home, Salwa walked the other little girl home and delivered her to her dying mother.

In 1982 she was kidnapped by militants who were feuding with the Lebanese Forces (Ouwet—the Christian Resistance Army). Salwa worked with a nun, the sister of the head of Ouwet. In effort to pressure Ouwet, the militants kidnapped the nun and took Salwa too because she was with the nun at the time. After a few days in captivity, they told Salwa she could go home to her four children and disabled husband. She refused. She knew that if she left, they may rape or kill the nun. She voluntarily remained kidnapped for three months to protect her friend—a woman who had dedicated her life to Christ.

By the age 39 she became widowed and had to support her four children alone, in the Middle East, during the 1980s. She was a tough woman. Though they didn’t have much physically, they were never low on love or affection.

In 2002, Teta moved to the US to help her oldest daughter raise her two children. She cooked for them. She cleaned for them. She loved them. She protected them. She did everything for them while her daughter worked 60+ hours a week to keep a roof over their heads.

In 2014 Salwa was diagnosed with stage 4 lung cancer. She was given 3 months to live. She endured the most difficult treatment, at an old age, yet never complained. Her faith and trust in God, Mar Charbel, and Mar Elias were unwavering. The cancer then spread to her spine. It shattered her T4 and T5, paralyzing her. She had a 13-hour back surgery. She spent 2 months in the hospital before she could walk again.

In 2016, she was deemed cancer free. Her oncologist said that if he didn’t believe in God, he would never believe her results because “no one survives stage 4 lung cancer”.

In 2019, she was hospitalized after her family noticed that she was cognitively impaired. Within hours, she was in a state of complete vegetation. Unresponsive. Her granddaughter spent the first night with her at the hospital, praying with her the entire night and telling her about Mar Charbel—a beloved Lebanese saint. The doctors were coming in all night, pressuring intubation. They didn’t know how strong she was. By 7 am, every doctor on that floor was in the room. She was given 24 hours to live. Our family immediately got to the hospital and stood by her bed, hysterical. Out of no where, after over 24 hours of being unresponsive, she screamed “GRACE” and our hearts stopped. She told us that Mar Charbel, Jesus, and mother Mary were with her. She dodged death’s door… AGAIN.

April 7, 2020. We couldn’t protect you anymore. Every time you went to the hospital, you were never alone. We stayed with you in shifts. Someone did the day. Someone did the night. We left our jobs and families to make sure you were never alone, never scared, never in need. Yet this time, due to this horrific pandemic, we couldn’t hold you or hug you. We couldn’t touch the hands that consoled us, fed us, and cared for us for almost 75 years.

Losing Salwa is a massive loss... a hurt that will never relent. But through it all, Salwa raised four children and three granddaughters who are there for each other every second of the day. She raised us to remain together, lead with love, and protect one another... like she always fought to protect us.

We all love you tremendously and are shattered by your passing—but through the strength you have embedded within us, we will rebuild. We’ll support one another and will carry your legacy. We’ll miss your food, your jokes, your dancing, and your hugs. We’ll miss painting your nails and doing your hair and arguing with you when we wouldn’t chop the tomatoes the way you asked. You were one of kind and we are grateful to have loved you and have been loved by you. We find comfort in knowing that if circumstances were different, there would be a line of people waiting to give their condolences. Everyone loved you and you loved everyone.

Rest in the sweetest peace Salwa—mama, Teta, em Elias. Enjoy the holy resurrection with Christ and dance with your beloved husband again. We are counting down the days to feel your hug one more time. We love you so much and will miss you, always.