My remarkable aunt, daughter of Lifta

A young Aida (left) flanked by her beloved mother, Fattoum Hammoudeh, and brother, my late father Aref Najjar (circa 1978)

My Amti Aida​ Najjar touched many lives — sometimes roughly, sometimes aggressively, sometimes tenderly, sometimes inspiringly, but always loudly and deeply.

And when death encroached on her carefully-composed life, she did not, for a second, consider going gently into that good night. She raged with the same force of will that had allowed her to manipulate her environment and the people in it to…