In March’s post, Rejections,
I mentioned that two of my close family members were battling cancer. They were
my uncle, mom’s brother, and my aunt, my dad’s sister. They both passed, in
late March and early April. My dad was the one who gave me the news of my
uncle’s death crying on the phone. 13 days later, I was the one on the phone
crying giving him the news of his sister’s death.
In January’s post, My
Grandmother, I wrote that the grief that came with my grandmother’s loss wasn’t
wrapped up in anger. Losing a loved one to cancer, or even watching them battle
it, on the other hand, makes you want to torch Olympus at times.
Once a colleague, when we were
talking about the losses in the family, said “We don’t have a big family, so
there haven’t been too many losses.”
It is true that the more beloved
ones you have in your life, the more losses you will experience, unless you die
first. For Turkish standards, I can’t say that I have a big family, but I do
have a sizeable family.
It is also true that not everyone
has to be close to their family, but I am.
My uncle was cool. He was The
Rolling Stones cool.
I didn’t want to let go of him when
I was a kid, and whenever he was around, I had his full attention. Later when he
had his own family, I had to make my peace with sharing him. It wasn’t easy in
the beginning, but I loved his partner quickly and my baby cousin was the
cutest thing I had ever seen.
When I was in college in
Istanbul, Istiklal
Avenue was a spot I visited often in my leisure time, as it was for most
college kids I knew in those days. My uncle’s workplace was close to Istiklal Avenue,
so I sometimes met him either at his work or somewhere in Istiklal. We drank
either beer or coffee. We talked about many things including whether there was
hope for the Turkish left [1], which still is a prominent question in the light
of the upcoming elections in Turkey [2].
Then, I moved abroad and my
interactions with the family in Turkey, except for my parents, became less and
less. I saw my uncle almost every time I visited Turkey, though. During COVID
lockdowns, we started talking more regularly over the phone. Around the time
the lockdowns started to get more relaxed, he got diagnosed with cancer. Toward
the end, he didn’t have the energy for a phone call.
My aunt was a force of nature.
She gave the impression that nothing could beat her. Then, she had cancer.
My aunt lived in Chicago, USA
with her husband and two children. Because of that I didn’t get to see her much
beyond their brief and rare visits to Turkey when I was a kid. My real
relationship with her began after I graduated from high school. That summer my
parents gifted me a flight ticket to Chicago. After I was done with my
university entrance exam, I flew there to spend a month with my aunt and cousins.
During that time, I got a chance to form a strong lifelong bond with all three
of them. Later, when I lived in San Jose, I frequently visited them in Chicago,
since I felt at home in Chicago, even though reaching Chicago from San Jose is
more difficult than reaching Istanbul from Copenhagen.
I loved having big family
gatherings at my aunt’s place with my cousins and their growing families. She
and I drank Turkish Raki together during some of those gatherings. Neither of my
cousins and none of my friends in the US liked that drink, so sharing it with
someone who also appreciates it as much as I did was something I cherished.
I also loved spending evenings at
her house drinking tea from her tiny Turkish tea glasses and eating bitter
mint-flavored chocolate. Even though I am not a big tea drinker, I kept a tiny
tea glass at home in case she visited, since she had a high preference toward
drinking tea with such glasses. She only got to visit my place in San Jose, and
I unfortunately broke that tea glass a while back in Copenhagen. Now, I no
longer need one.
I lost other beloved members of
my family and some family friends to cancer before. I also have some family
members and friends who survived cancer. I know all the options are on the
table, and one should ideally never give up hope. On the other hand, sometimes
it gets to a point where you realize the end is nearing. Your prayers or wishes
for the loved one start shifting from “please let him/her heal” to “please stop
his/her suffering.” In March, despite my best resistance, that shift happened
for me. When some colleagues asked me about whether my family members were ok
after the earthquake in Turkey, I often wanted to make the terrible dark joke
of “They were safe from the earthquake, but we have cancer to compensate for that.”,
but I held my tongue. I was often in a bad mood almost waiting for death to happen
anytime and ate more and more lunches alone at work instead of going with other
lab members. Not that they weren’t extremely kind and supportive, one of them
even gave me a much-needed strong hug the morning my uncle died, and I was
supposed to give a lecture in less than an hour.
I traveled to Istanbul for a week
the day after my uncle died. I especially wanted to be with my mother, who
experienced the loss of a sibling for the first time.
It was the right choice since
being with the family was helpful to cope with the situation.
I was back in Copenhagen when my
aunt died. I thought about going back to Istanbul again for a few days to be
with my dad, who lost his last remaining sibling, or going to Chicago to be
with my cousins. At the same time, I felt like crawling into a cave and staying
there uninterrupted. My dad told me to take care of myself first, so I stayed
in Copenhagen.
It was also the right choice
since I needed time for myself.
I know I am writing all these
from a place of distance still. I live abroad. I experience everything that
happens to my family from abroad. These losses created a lot of grief for my
family and close family friends. Yet, it is not my place to write about anyone
else’s loss or grief. I can only do my best to put mine into words, and this is
it. In the end, I am grateful that both my uncle and my aunt were an important
part of my life despite our residence across different countries, and the
memories are here to keep.
[1] My uncle belonged to the
left-wing student groups during the 1970s political uproar in Turkey, which led
to the 1980 Turkish military coup, and had to leave the country briefly to live
abroad since he was receiving death threats from the right-wing groups.
[2] I voted on Friday, and I am
hopeful.
