Seeing Through the Shrapnel - Tribal

The following story was originally published on the Tribal network on Dec. 9, 2020. To see it on the website click here. Login required.

BY ERIC PEREIRA

Roy Abrahamian didn’t have the same childhood as most of us when he was growing up in Lebanon. For a portion of it, his family had to hide in bunkers, ration meals, and constantly move as their lives depended on it.  

“I am defined by my family. I am defined by the roots that I come from,” Roy said. 

His family roots may be centered in pain, but they blossomed from the resilience Roy developed in overcoming extreme adversity by enduring — through two wars.

Roy’s forefathers experienced involuntary displacement due to conflicts in their home countries. No matter how dire the situation might be, there was a light at the end of the tunnel for a new opportunity.

Now Roy has planted his roots in the U.S. 

Generations of Suffering

Roy’s grandfather was Armenian and fled the country during the genocide in 1915 — eight of his 11 siblings perished — and his father had to relocate his family 23 times due to the Lebanese Civil War.  

“I remember we would be in the bunker multiple times. We would sleep in the bunker or we would sleep in the bathrooms,” Roy recalled of his childhood during the civil war. “We could hear glass shatter. I’d actually see bombs explode in front of me. We were kind of unsettled.” 

Meals often consisted of canned meats and cheeses his parents had to wait in long lines for. This was the scenario for families across the country for many years — hearing about people dying from shrapnel in explosions became a frighteningly normal occurrence.

His family experienced loss as well. Roy’s cousin, a decorated and well-respected Lebanese Army soldier, had died fighting valiantly.

Roy remembers his father crying — a rare spectacle — after the death of this family member.

“My parents tried to shield us as much as possible from the trouble,” he said. Eventually, the war came to an end and his parents were keen on investing everything financially, emotionally, toward getting Roy on the path to success.

In his case, this meant becoming a doctor.  

Roy remembers a time of adjustment through a post-war recovery, with a boom in construction, post-war materialism, and many unhealed scars in the culture from the conflict. However, Roy’s grit would be tested yet again – this time as a young adult — during one of the most important moments in his career.

33 Days

Then came 2006, the Israel-Lebanon war. Roy was 25 and in medical school. He remembers when the 33-day war began as he was trying to complete his medical exams to come to the U.S.

“I never forgot that day,” he said of July 12. “We were in the mountains, having a good time supposedly. I saw a bomb exploding across the hill from our home in Hammana. I remember the glass in our home shattered. And literally our home moved like an earthquake. I remember I asked my dad, ‘Are we going to die?’ ”

His father always reassured him they’d be okay. But civilians could only be so prepared to be living in the firefight.

“It was very scary … you just have to live through that,” Roy said. “You have to have patience and faith. I think faith is very important. Because you hope, you always hope for the best.”

During the war there was a full embargo on Lebanon by air, land and sea. Looking out of his home window, he could see the Israeli warships passing through.

Roy recalls the Israeli Army had bombed the bridges across Lebanon, crippling the country. Amidst all of this, he still had to get to medical school from the suburbs of Beirut.

“I would be driving to medical school, and there’s bullets flying around my car. And my mom would be on my phone all the time, praying for me, when I’m driving to get to medical school,” he said holding back tears.

“You don’t know if you’re going to be there the next day. You hope you are,” he remembered. “You hope you do the right things. You hope you finish your exams. You say: ‘Ok, you need to find some stability.’ ”

That stability would come from a country known for opportunity — although his plan wasn’t to stay there.

A Backup Plan

Now living as a Georgia native, Roy didn’t intend to come to the U.S. and stay permanently. Initially the plan was to come to the U.S. to get the best medical training and then see what his options would be.

“Because of the war you always want to have the best cards in your hands,” he said. “And to me, education is an international passport.” 

However, while he was a cardiology fellow at Emory University, he crossed paths with his now wife, Ashley, who was a social worker there.

Falling in love anchored him here in the States to pursue his career in medicine. These days he lives in the quiet mountains of North Georgia, where he works as a cardiologist.

In Lebanon, family legacy in this society defines Roy. That same principal still applies to his baby boy. The son of a survivor and opportunist.

Roy pushed himself and the result has been an amalgamation of applying his personal, societal and cultural values to achieve peace. 

“I give a lot of credit to my country as well, having that desire, that collective support from my family members (and) my extended family members from our culture that you want to be the best,” he said regarding his journey. “You want to be contributing to your field, you want to contribute to your society the best way possible. Everything you can get your hands on to be a better version of yourself.”