Decades ago, I have taken a picture of my former husband in a similar pose as the man featured above – with our daughter, our only child. Such images are not rare to run into – in hard copy or digital form. We often make the mistake of equating that tender moment’s capture with a lifelong promise of unconditional acceptance, respect and love for the newborn child. Time only tests whether that precious and most important call is, in fact, honored by each parent. Whether unconditional love prevails.
My point of interest, though, is not at all my daughter’s father but rather my fathers. No confusion, please: I have only one biological father. He is turning 87 this year. He has been good to me. He still is good to me. Babalar Günü’n kutlu olsun, babacığım!
Then there is my uncle-dad. My mother’s older brother – the only surviving sibling out of three. It is to him I dedicate my post today. For always being by my side – although a continent away; for giving me strength through my small hurdles or most trying ordeals; for having proven to me time and again what I have been hearing him tell me since the age when I finally realized his presence: “you are my daughter also”; for worrying about my health while still in the hospital after his emergency surgery following an almost fatal internal bleeding; for never leaving me out of his caring soul even during his life-threatening conditions – not only during the first, or the second but also after the third kind of cancer’s attack.
Dayıcığım: Babalar Gün’ün kutlu olsun!
Two famous fathers of Turkish birth singing for their daughters: