on my half-hour sanity break right before the daily grind dims my faint light in desperate need for an outlet of ease emotions run high way too high only that one Turkish TV series will do as melodramatic as an audio-visual lift can be the camera follows the tear-clad remorse-bathed magnetizing tragedy-filled episodes one after another still among the living the loved and loving ones refresh the ground of the rashly poured soil a water bin waits by their side for its turn while they ask for forgiveness over and over all hopes abandoned yet again and again wishing against all odds a worldly sign to pay them a visit they will crowd each of the graveyards to hear a forgive me resonate inside their own . . . hülya n. yılmaz, March 28.2016 A post-mortem dedication to Dr. Mahmut Oğuz Ergün (5.7.1931-3.28.2015), my larger-than-life uncle - my last beloved on my mother's side of the family
Tag Archives: Mahmut Dayım
. . . an attempt at escapism . . .
Filed under Poetry
Father’s Day and Mahmut Dayım
but it takes a special person to be a dad.”
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!
The Adventures of Jaydon and Daddy
My Father My Dad.The Chatter Blog
Two famous fathers of Turkish birth singing for their daughters:
Filed under Reflections