Abbas Deeb

Abbas Abdul Karim Asad Deeb passed away peacefully in his home on Thursday, November 13, 2025, under the care and love of his family. Left to honor his memory are his wife of 50 years, Elham Ashy Deeb; his children, Qais, Amer, Samira (Christopher), Noor (David), and Sarah (Aash); and his beloved grandchildren Rory, Zaina, Kareem, and Amir. Left to mourn his passing from afar are his sister, Halima, his dear twin sister, Haajar, and a large family scattered throughout the world. He was preceded in death by his parents, Abdul Karim and Fatima, and his siblings Moufeed, Fareed, Ahmad, and Karima.

Born in Burqa, Palestine, Abbas spent his childhood in this small mountain village, his family home, nestled amid fertile land and surrounded by olive trees. Under brutal occupation and war, he left his ancestral homeland when he was just 19 years old. He would spend decades living in exile, unable to return even to visit his remaining family for 47 years. Full of youthful passion, his journey naturally led him to Beirut, Lebanon: then the Levant’s epicenter of artists, thinkers, and activists. At Beirut Arab University he studied economics and political science—topics he immensely enjoyed delving into for hours with friends and strangers alike. It was in Beirut that he met a quiet Syrian nurse and was captivated from the first moment by her gentleness and beauty. Abbas and Elham’s love story is a novel all its own (in fact, an old friend is working to document it!), but we will casually note that it began with nearly a decade of diligent persistence and “lowkey” stalking, alongside hundreds of love letters and yearning poems. He eventually left Beirut for job opportunities in Kuwait and then Oman, but with the help of a new friend, he and Elham were reunited to start their new life together as husband and wife in Dubai, UAE. That friend would hold a cherished place throughout their lives, and they vowed to name their firstborn daughter, Samira, after her. Abbas and Elham were madly in love and quickly established successful careers in their new home while they found joy in growing their family, uplifted by the care of good friends and community. Fast-forward many years, when—to ensure the best life for his children—he started over once again, in a new country, with a new culture and a new language, and did it admirably at 48 years old. Within the first year in Lake Charles, Louisiana, he was blessed with the best surprise, their fifth child, Sarah. It is abundantly clear that Sarah inherited his sense of humor, and he was the star of her best videos, memes, and playful antics that even today leave us laughing till we cry! He would often say, “My life would be boring without Sarah!”

Abbas held a deep love for growing and nurturing his home garden. Longing for his faraway homeland and family, he filled his yard with grapevines, herbs, vegetables, including his moulkiah, his favorite Palestinian dish, and lots of fruit trees, such as pomegranates, figs, oranges, lemons, and Japanese plums. And even—to his own account—the only olive tree in the state of Louisiana! Every fall, he looked forward to the large tins of olives and olive oil his family sent from Palestine. He treated those tins as found treasures, and he carefully partitioned them into smaller containers to hand out to friends and even strangers. He took great pleasure and pride in sharing a piece of his heritage with all. Along with gardening, he had a particular affinity for song birds, especially canaries, which he kept in his home over the years. There are plenty of other stories about birds: the chickens he once attempted to raise on the balcony of a second-floor city apartment; an emu he somehow kept in the guest bathroom. He once shared a poem he wrote that may have revealed the symbolism that lay at the heart of his love for birds, about an exiled young man who would send a bird, flying free and defying borders, to comfort his mother. And yes, he loved poetry. It was common for him to spontaneously recite a poem; if not a poem, a song; and if not a song, a verse from the Quran. His grandchildren shared many blissful moments with him singing folk songs to them.

Through his actions and words, it was evident that his most prized possessions were his family and community. His children always felt deeply loved and supported by him. He was a founding member of the Islamic Society of Lake Charles, dedicating his time to supporting and comforting new Americans. He treated everyone he met—no matter who—like an old friend, delighting in connection with others. He was the kind of friend who never waited to be asked; with no hesitation, he was always there. As someone recalled, if you ever met Abbas, you were the recipient of his abundant kindness and hospitality. If there is one word that best captures his spirit, it is “generous.” Whether it was a meal, a coffee, a place to rest, a conversation, or just the gift of his company, he embodied generosity in all its forms and found joy in sharing his time and all that he had. He would always meet you with a smile, and he dutifully ensured his pockets were filled with candy before going to the masjid, earning him the affectionate title of “Candy Man” among the children.

He recently said, “The only thing you take to your grave is your good deeds.”

As we ache from his loss in the physical world, we find peace in reflecting on his remarkable and beautiful life and in all the love and care he poured into every person he encountered. His generosity, his love for all people as well as trees, plants, and birds, his devotion to family and homeland, his passion for justice, his tender sentiment for poetry, his brilliant sense of humor—even his stubbornness—are all still alive and tangible, living not only in our hearts but in his legacy: his wife, his children, and his grandchildren.

I love you, Abboussi.

We love you, Baba.

We love you, Jiddo.

While Abbas loved surprising Elham with flowers, in lieu of flowers, the family kindly asks to honor his life by contributing to his PCRF Memorial Fundraiser to uplift children - please visit the fund here. Or to honor his love for olive trees and his homeland – plant an olive tree in his memory in West Bank villages.