Tag Archives: grief

Pedrito’s 30 Days with ICE.Fictional Memoir

Pedrito’s Diary, Day 9

Thursday, January 30, 2025

All 5 of us were sitting in our corner and waiting to hear the megaphone in the afternoon as that man said. I heard someone crying by the wall corner right behind us. I got up and walked toward where the cry was coming from. A little boy had crouched down, with his back against the wall, and he was sobbing. I sat down on the floor right next to him and asked him: “Why are you crying?” He looked up at me and said nothing at first. His face was wet with tears, and his nose was running. I asked him again why he was crying. “I am hungry,” he said very quietly. “Didn’t you pick up your food?” I asked. “No. When I was at the table, all was gone. I was scared of the men. I didn’t ask.”

I jumped up and went to my spot. I picked up my banana and my slice of bread, then rushed to the little boy. “Here, eat these.” He thanked me and started to eat both right away. I waited until he was finished eating, then asked him: “What’s your name?” “Gabriel,” he said. “Oh, wow! I have a little sister whose name is Gabriela. Do you have any sisters or brothers?” “No,” he said, “only Mama and Papa.” He started to cry again, and murmured, “I miss them so much.” I, too, was very sad because I also missed Mama, Papa and Gabriela so very much. To distract him, I asked him how old he was. “Four.” “Gabriel, you know what? My sister is exactly your age!” I then asked him when he was brought here. “Yesterday.”

“Gabriel, where is your blanket?” By now, he had stopped crying. “I don’t have one.” He was obviously too scared to ask for one in the food line yesterday, his first day here. “Come with me,” I told him, held his hand and took him to one of the tables up front where we picked up our food and blanket yesterday evening. “Sir, this is Gabriel. He couldn’t pick up his blanket last night. Could you please give him one?” The man looked at us both and asked: “Is this your brother?” “No, Sir. He is here all by himself. Please, Sir!” The man left his chair and disappeared behind a door near the tables. After a short while, he reappeared with a blanket in his hand. “Here you go.” We both thanked him many times. Then turned around and got back to our corner.

I introduced him to my dear friends, the brothers. Each of them first greeted Gabriel enthusiastically, then told him their names and how old they were. I saw a faint smile on Gabriel’s face. He looked up at me, said “Thank you!” and hugged me with his little arms. I so needed a hug. I hugged him back and whispered to his ear, just like Alejandro did for me, “Everything is going to be alright.”

© hülya n. yılmaz, February 7, 2025

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Pedrito’s 30 Days with ICE.Fictional Memoir

Pedrito’s Diary, Day 8

Wednesday, January 29, 2025

I don’t know when I fell asleep last night. I only know that I was very tired and cold. The last thing I remember is that I had stopped sobbing and got under the blanket. I didn’t need to use it to cover up my cries.

Today was my 8th day here. I wondered how long I was going to mark the days. Just then, Alejandro spoke to me: “Pedrito, we have to form our lines quickly.” All five of us had settled close to one another in one corner of the hangar. I learned their ages yesterday: Alejandro was 14, Diego, 13, Jose, 12, and Jesu, 10. I also learned that their sister, Lucette, and Jesu were twins. Once I knew this, I understood better why Jesu was quiet most of the time. He probably was missing his twin sister in a different way than his older brothers.

I wasn’t as scared as I was on my first day here. These kind brothers made me feel safe. Also, because we were doing everything together, my anxiety was not as overwhelming as before.

We formed our line, just like yesterday, and picked up our food. Once each of us had their banana and bread, we went back to our corner fast. I put my food aside. I thought, if I didn’t eat anything, I wouldn’t need to go to the boulder outside. I saw how Jesu put his food aside also.

There was an announcement on the megaphone after some time had passed: “This afternoon, food will be delivered to this building. When it’s here, each of you will come over where I stand now, and open the crates. You will NOT take anything! NOT ONE SINGLE THING! Any of you who attempts to pick out anything will be PUNISHED SEVERELY!”

Now, we all became very scared.

© hülya n. yılmaz, February 6, 2025

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Pedrito’s 30 Days with ICE.Fictional Memoir

Pedrito’s Diary, Day 7

Tuesday, January 28, 2025

I don’t know how long I was asleep. There were no windows in the hangar. So, I couldn’t tell if it was still nighttime or morning. I sat up, shivering in the cold. I wrapped myself with the blanket. I still felt the cold of the concrete floor. I thought of home. How Mama would read my sister and me a story at bedtime. How she would then tuck us in. Gabriela and I feeling all snug and cuddly. I miss Mama, Papa and my little sister so very much. Where were they now? Were they warm enough? Had they enough food? I started to cry. I knew that I wasn’t supposed to make any peep. I covered my mouth, just like Mama had done to Gabriela before she and Papa were taken out of the van. Leaving us children behind. I remembered the terror in their eyes when they looked at us before going out of the van. Mama’s wailing ringed my ears. My sobs were so strong now, I folded the blanket and pulled it over my head.

I laid down with a piece of the blanket covering my mouth. I kept crying and wishing to see my family when I woke up again.

© hülya n. yılmaz, February 5, 2025

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Pedrito’s 30 Days with ICE.Fictional Memoir

Pedrito’s Diary, Day 6

Monday, January 27, 2025

The megaphone interrupted my thoughts about Gabriela. “Hurry up! Form the lines already!” The 4 brothers and I had formed our line immediately after the first call. More feet shuffling could be heard for a little while. Then, silence.

“Now, walk slowly toward the front of the hangar. Pick up your food and 1 blanket, turn around and move ASAP toward the back gates! Don’t look around! When you are back in your original space, spread the blanket on the floor wherever you see an empty spot. There might be cots coming in a few days later. Tonight, you’ll sleep on the floor.”

Our turn came. The food was 1 banana and 1 slice of bread for each of us. We picked it up, along with a thin blanket, turned around and walked slowly toward the back gates. Exactly like we were instructed.

I was glad that I had not wet my pajamas. They would have been much colder when wet on the concrete floor. I pulled the blanket over me, and tried to fall asleep. Before I did, I thought about the baby who was crying earlier. Did someone give her anything to eat?

© hülya n. yılmaz, February 4, 2025

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Pedrito’s 30 Days with ICE.Fictional Memoir

Pedrito’s Diary, Day 5

Sunday, January 26, 2025

The guard took me outside. Other uniformed men were pacing up and down the back gates. The one who walked with me for a little bit, pointed at a large boulder and said loudly, “Go over there and hurry up! It’s too cold outside for me to wait for you long.” I was in a big hurry anyway. So, I rushed toward the boulder but then stopped. The back gates were lit with huge lights, and 1 of them was positioned to have the boulder in clear sight. All the guards could see what I was about to do. I felt so embarrassed that I thought about holding it in. But maybe a minute later, I had to let go. The smell of old pee turned my stomach. I wondered how any of us children could do number 2 here. In such a wide open spot. At home, we had a bathroom with a door, like all my friends’ homes did. Papa had put a small fan in ours and it was on all the time. I prayed that I would never have to do a number 2 over here.

Once I was brought back inside, a smile went through my face. Alejandro had waited for me to return right there where he was before my first time using an open air toilet. “Did it go okay?” I smiled again, although I was still feeling embarrassed. “Yes. Thank you.” The guard had already gone to his original post. “Let’s go back to our small boy group,” said Alejandro.

The brothers looked happy to see me back. They patted my back, and remarked together: “Good for you! You can now wait for the food with ease.” As soon as the word “food” was mentioned, someone announced through a megaphone: “Form lines ASAP! Stretch your arms in the front so that you can touch the one in front of you. The faster you are in that position, the faster you will get your food.”

Many feet shuffling could be heard throughout the hangar. We also did as we were told. Each of the brothers lined up behind me. They made me feel like I had big brothers. I was in their protection now. I smiled again. I desperately hoped that Gabriela was as lucky. The smile immediately faded away from my face.

© hülya n. yılmaz, February 3, 2025

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Pedrito’s 30 Days with ICE.Fictional Memoir

Pedrito’s Diary, Day 4

Saturday, January 25, 2025

“Don’t cry. Everything will be alright.” I looked up. An older boy was talking to me. “I am Jose. I am 12. How about you?” He asked. With my voice still shaky, I answered, “My name is Pedrito. I am 8.” He added: “My 3 brothers are here. We also have one sister. We all were brought in here yesterday. We don’t know where our sister, Lucette, is. She is 10.” As soon as I heard the word sister, I started to cry again. I was so scared for my little Gabriela. Jose gave me a hug, after calling 3 names, Diego, Alejandro, and Jesu. I was now inside a hug circle of 4 brothers. As if in one voice, they told me: “Stay with us. You’ll be okay.”

My tears slowed down. I thanked them one by one. Diego took off his vest and handed it to me. “You are shivering. Those pajamas look quite thin. Here, wear this. You don’t want to get sick here.” I didn’t argue, as I was so very cold. “Thank you so much!” The next thing I sensed was how badly I needed to pee. Quietly, I asked Jose if there is a bathroom here somewhere. “Hmm, that’s a tough one. We have to find someone in a uniform to get permission. He will then lead you to the gates in the back. You can only pee outside.”

All 5 of us began to look for a man in uniform. My new friends were taller than me. Alejandro, the tallest, spotted a guard. He immediately walked toward him, maneuvering around tons of boys on his way. I couldn’t hold it much longer. So, I rushed behind him. “How many of you?” The guard asked Alejandro. “Just me,” I replied. I quickly thanked Alejandro and followed the guard. I just wanted to be outside ASAP so that I wouldn’t wet my pajamas like Gabriela.

© hülya n. yılmaz, February 2, 2025

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Pedrito’s 30 Days with ICE.Fictional Memoir

Pedrito’s Diary, Day 3

Friday, January 24, 2025

I couldn’t move my eyes away from the growing distance between Gabriela and me. One man was dragging her. She must have felt paralyzed in her fear and sadness. I couldn’t stop crying and begging, “Please let me stay with my sister. She is only 4.”

The tall man who was pushing me nonstop, shouted: “Stop crying! Move!”

After several minutes passed, we arrived in front of a building that looked like an airplane hangar. I remembered how Papa made paper airplanes for me. “Pedrito, you love planes so much. Maybe one day, you will become an aircraft pilot.” He had also made a hangar for my paper planes. It was a shoe box with one of the short sides cut open.

The hangar in front of me was gigantic. There was an entry gate where several men in uniform stood, their rifles on their side. I had never seen a gun or a rifle before. The men were very tall and hefty, and so scary with their rifles clutched by one of their hands. One of them signaled with his other hand to the man behind me, “proceed.” I was pushed through the guarded gate, then, shoved inside.

I am good with numbers, as Papa and my teacher always told me. I couldn’t possibly guess the number of children in the hangar. Some looked Gabriela’s age, some seemed to be my age. Others must have been teenagers. They were quite tall. Taller than me, for sure. What all of them seemed to have in common was their loud cries. I didn’t need to hide my heavy crying anymore.

I looked around to see if I could stand close to a boy of my age. It was difficult to move, as we all stood shoulder to shoulder. Then I heard a baby’s cries from close by. I stood on my toes to see better. The baby was in the arms of someone in uniform.

I remembered Gabriela as a baby. When I was 4 years old, Mama’s tummy grew. And it kept growing. Mama sat me aside one day, hugged and kissed me, and then said: “My sweet, darling Pedrito, I want to tell you something. There is a baby inside me. She will be there until one day when she comes out from my tummy to be with our family. Now, she will be very, very little. She will cry sometimes. When she is hungry, thirsty, or wet. But she will also sleep a lot. To grow. And you will get to know her every day. You will always be her big brother.” I was so excited to hear Mama’s words. A big brother! I could hardly wait to meet my little sister. Quite a while later, Mama came home with a bundle. Papa had stayed home with me. He rushed to the hallway and hugged Mom and gave a gentle kiss to the baby in her arms. “Come here, Pedrito, meet your little sister, Gabriela.”

Oh yes, I remembered Gabriela as a baby. My beautiful little sister with huge brown eyes. What is she doing now, I wondered. How is she now, I asked myself. And my tears began to flood down my face.

© hülya n. yılmaz, February 1, 2025

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Pedrito’s 30 Days with ICE.Fictional Memoir

Pedrito’s Diary, Day 2

Thursday, January 23, 2025

I don’t know how long we were in the moving van. It got pitch dark fast outside. Gabriela moved closer to Mama. She whispered something into her ear. One of the men growled, “No talking!” Gabriela started crying hard. The same man barked at her: “Shut up! Or I will shut you up!”

A few minutes later, the smell of pee rose up. Gabriela had wet her pajamas. In a soft voice, Mama tried to comfort my sister, “It’s OK, Sweetie.” Another man growled: “If you two don’t shut up, we’ll throw you out!”

I heard Mama crying also, but very quietly. She had covered Gabriela’s mouth.

We were on the road for a long time. Now the new day was up. The van came to an abrupt halt. Mama and Papa were ordered to get out. “Move already! We don’t have all day!” Two men shoved them out of the van. More tall men with heavy jackets were waiting outside by a ditch where both fell. The van started to move again. “Mama! Papa! Don’t leave us! Please! Mama! Papa!” My sister and I kept shouting amid our sobs. The van moved faster and faster. Mama and Papa were no longer in sight. Gabriela was crying inconsolably. I was very scared now too, and cried hard. At the same time, I didn’t want to be thrown out as that one man threatened earlier. What would Gabriela do then?

We both cried as quietly as we could. We were never apart from Mama or Papa. Whatever we had done, we were always together. Mama and Papa had never left us alone at home even for a short time.

I don’t know if hours passed or only 1 hour after we lost the sight of Mama and Papa. The van came to a halt again. All of the men yelled: “Get out fast! And no peep from either one of you!” Gabriela clutched her shaking little hand to my arm, while I held her other hand in mine. As soon as we were shoved outside, two men in some kind of a uniform showed up right before our eyes. They unclutched Gabriela’s hand from my arm and forced me to let go off her other hand. We both started to cry loudly and kept begging them: “Please, let us be together! Please! We have never been apart before! And our Mama and Papa are not with us anymore. Please, don’t take us apart.” Both men spoke at once: “Boys this way! Girls that way! Move!” To that, I dropped on my knees and begged them, “Please don’t take my sister away from me! She is so little. She is only 4!” One of the men pulled me up harshly and shoved me away from my sister.

The last thing I remember from that morning was Gabriela’s screams and her terror-filled eyes.

© hülya n. yılmaz, January 31, 2025

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Pedrito’s 30 Days with ICE.Fictional Memoir

My Dear Readers:

After a prolonged hiatus, I am back on this platform. I would firstly like to extend my most sincere thanks to all my readers of the past who were kindly attentive to my back-then regular posts, poems and prose pieces alike. I have been away for quite a long time because I have been struggling at the core of my being to face the utterly shocking and disturbing events that materialized in the U.S. as well as in the world and continue to do so in our ever-evolving attitudes and perspectives toward our humanity.

I am an empath. Calling me a “hypersensitive” person would not be an exaggeration. (I have read on this matter heavily when experts in the field are concerned.) Once I forced myself to digest the terrifying news and to move from a reaction to an action, a venue opened up for me. Instead of remaining numb all day and all night long, I slowly began to put my thoughts and emotions into writing. I have found that my voice, our voices, to be significant and necessary, if we are to effectuate any semblance of change.

Today’s post is my first entry where I attempt to imagine the horrifying developments surrounding “Pedrito,” a child, whose family has been taken apart upon the order of mass deportations of American immigrants under the new regime.

In my posts for the upcoming 30 days, I will be adopting the format of a diary as composed by my protagonist Pedrito. If you are aware of the disastrous occurrences in the U.S., you will clearly see that my writings originate, in actuality, from actual happenings of monstrous scale.

Thank you once again for having been here to read me in the past, and thank you for being here today.

hülya n. yılmaz

Pedrito’s Diary, Day 1

Wednesday, January 22, 2025

My name is Pedro. I am 8 years old. My parents call me Pedrito. I have a sister, Gabriela. She is 4. Mama was washing me and my sister. She always does so after dinner. We brushed our teeth as we do every night before we go to bed. Mama started reading us both a story. Tonight, it was going to be a tale about grandparents. My grandparents live far away. I know them only from pictures. I kept my notebook on my lap. I hoped Mama to tell us about our grandparents.

A heavy banging on the door startled us. We heard Papa’s footsteps. He must have opened the house door. Papa was supposed to oil the hinges. The door squeaked as usual. Then came the thumps of many feet and yelling. Much yelling.

Papa’s voice was muzzled. We could only hear him say, “We have papers.” A man’s angry shout took over, “You are coming with us!”

The three of us rushed to the hallway. Papa was being held by two tall men in thick jackets. As they dragged Papa out the door, I saw “ICE” on their backs. 4 other tall men were still inside our house. They came for us. They pulled us apart. 2 grabbed Mama. 1 came to get me, the 4th, my sister.

Outside, we were all shoved into a black van. The engine was already on. The driver took off right away. We were in shock. We were so very scared. Gabriela started to cry. She couldn’t stop her sobbing. One of the men yelled at Mama: “Shut her up, or I will!”

© hülya n. yılmaz, 1.30.2025

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“Eşkiya” and an afterthought

 

The scene shown above is claimed to be the most critical representation of the film “Eşkiya,” a groundbreaking contribution to contemporary Turkish cinema.The plot summaries in English of my finding don’t dwell on what this excerpt reveals with succinct emphasis; namely, the Leitmotif that holds this artistic production together: the story of Baran and Keje.  It is a tale of love extending beyond the scopes of life and death, resonating the legendary loves in Turkish literature.  Such as that between Ferhat and Şirin (12th century), Leyla and Mecnun (16th century), Kerem and Aslı (16th century), and others.

Keje buries herself in silence and inaction when the man who betrayed Baran to unjust imprisonment becomes her husband after he buys her from her father. Thirty-five years later, Baran is free again.  His untiring search for his love embodies his only livelihood.

The storyline assumes numerous complications through unrelated events to create in Baran once again an innocent bystander of crimes he did not commit.  Alongside, Baran confronts at last his worst enemy.  In Keje’s presence.  Her silence – her way of mourning for the loss of her love to life, will cease only then – she has Baran understand – if she were to witness a falling star.  A symbol to her of a tortured soul attaining ultimate freedom – for both lovers…

While I can’t remember how far back in the past, I know exactly how I used to think about the phenomenon of love and its loss: a distinctive flair of melancholy lurked only over the people of Turkey – as with today’s few quick examples.  But then, I discovered famous names of non-Turkish roots with the same approach to this utterly uplifting, at the same time soul shattering reality of life.  And here I am, sharing some of my related deliberations with you in the form of a poem I have written recently:

when love is everything

among long-time friends once again

enduring the familiar left-side pain

decades surpassed their centuries

the hurt remains the same

an Immortal Beloved crafted life

birthed death ever so keen

a blazing desire in-between

oh geh mit, geh mit

oh accompany me, accompany me

Hebuterne embraced the call

Plath followed it with ease

Claudel suffered a living disease

King Edward VIII stunned the monarchy

etched to memory for lives to come:

the essence negates all that is told

nourishes from the authentic self;

sates and attains for evermore,

absolute ecstasy at the core.

For love is everything.

hülya yılmaz (October 3, 2013)

Have you ever grieved in deep sorrow for losing love but led yourself to conclude you had no right to mourn in the open because your loss was not one to death?

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