Recollections

I was just looking at an old photo my aunt posted on Facebook. It was a black and white photo taken sometime in 1979 so, I must have been only a few months old. In it, my little body is cupped in my grandfather's hands as he poses for the camera, holding me like a trophy. In a way, I was a trophy: the first child of his first son. This is important in Turkish culture.

Looking at that photo I had this weird sense that I was not just studying Histology to pass my upcoming exam, then pass the boards, and ultimately graduate med-school, etc., but that I was also studying to honor the pride with which my grandfather held me that summer day in 1979.

My grandfather loved his garden which he filled with poplar and fruit trees. He also loved his grandchildren. He combined his two passions and created a beautiful garden in which his multitude of grandchildren could play and frolic all day and night. He crafted a beautiful fountain from the very stones of our village which he handpicked and carried. He built a swing which we wore out and he built another and yet another. He constructed a gazebo which he later renovated. We almost never spent anytime inside. The fountain occupied us for hours. We would put marbles on the outlet, turn the water on and watch the marble balance on the stream of water. We ate almost every meal and sang songs deep into the night in that gazebo. My cousins and I pondered our futures while taking turns swinging. What would we become? Who would we marry? Kids!

In the winter of 2000 my grandfather passed. Alzheimer's. Oh, did I mention, he used to wrestle too!

I love you dede.