In recent years, I haven’t been
able to spend that much alone time with my parents during my visits to Turkey,
since we tend to have other family staying with us during holiday seasons. There
is a reason why every couch and sofa my parents have at home can become a bed.
I adopted this couch habit at each place I lived.
I love our visitors; they are
people I miss and would like to see as well. Some of them come to us mainly to
see me. Some of them live abroad like I do, so they come to see us. However, I
have also lived away from my parents since I was 17 and I have no siblings. The
time I visit my parents is crucial to us as I don’t see them often and we are each
other’s core family.
Thus, I asked my parents to come
to Copenhagen last year for the New Year’s instead of me going to Istanbul, and
they welcomed the idea of spending time just us three. During their visit, my
grandmother passed away[i].
We flew to Istanbul the next day altogether. That visit to Istanbul for her
funeral was the last time I saw my uncle, one of my mom’s brothers, who also passed
away earlier this year[ii]. Furthermore, we lost my aunt[ii],
my dad’s sister, who lived in Chicago and usually visited us during summer
holidays.
In darker parts of my grief
earlier this year, I felt like a selfish asshole for wishing to have only my
parents for the holidays. It is as if in return for that wish, I lost three
close family members. Logically, I know the losses had nothing to do with my
wish. I didn’t wish people dead, I just wanted more time with my parents.
This year, for the end of year holidays,
we again have a fuller house with other family members visiting. I am excited
to see all these people, especially after this year’s losses. However, as
usual, that excitement comes with the trade-off of my time with my mom and dad.
I arrived in Istanbul the evening
of December 22nd. My parents welcomed me at the airport together
with a family member who flew in from Izmir earlier that day. My dad drove us
home. My aunt, my mom’s sister, was there waiting for us. We all had dinner. We
would have more family coming in a few days.
My mom recently had surgery
because they found skin cancer in her nose. It was benign, but it was better to
remove it. Shortly after dinner, my mom went to the bathroom to renew the
bandage on her nose and my dad went to help her. I was on my laptop writing while
others watched TV. At some point, I heard my mom asking my dad if he is ok. I
went there to check. My dad wasn’t ok. He was feeling dizzy and the color on
his face was fading. Shortly after, he couldn’t stand without us supporting
him, and he started mumbling. We called an ambulance.
My dad had a heart attack once
back when I lived in the US. It was a mild one. He didn’t even notice it, he
thought he was having a rough day. In other words, he had the best heart attack
one could have, if such a thing exists. They noticed the traces of a prior
heart attack during a checkup, which my mom forced him to go to, later that
year.
By the time the ambulance came,
my dad was in better shape. But given his prior history with heart issues, they
decided to take him to hospital to keep him under observation for a while to
make sure there is nothing heart related. I went with him. They told me that I
couldn’t stay at the back of the ambulance, since it was illegal, and I should
ask the driver if he would be willing to have me in the front. It was my first
time in an ambulance. I felt very uneasy leaving my dad at that moment, but I
knew they had to do their job. The driver allowed me in the front. He played
some games on his phone as I waited anxiously while they did some initial tests
on my dad. At some point, they opened the small window between the front and
the back of the ambulance to tell the driver it was time to move. I could then
hear my dad answering some questions in his normal voice, which calmed me down.
When we reached the hospital, I
first had to deal with some paperwork before joining my dad in one of the
emergency rooms. We talked about what stresses him out these days, did some
gossiping, discussed world politics as the hospital staff came in and out
asking us questions, getting more blood from my dad, and performing additional
checks. At some point, my dad said “This way we got to spend some alone time.
We were worried that we would get none during your visit. You can write about
this in your blog.” It was true. It was one of the rare times I spent alone with
my dad in years. I really don’t wish to repeat this, though.
After a while, I told him to try
to get some sleep. Even though there were still interruptions for test results
and more blood checks, he did get some naps. Eventually, they let us go. My
mom’s older brother drove us back. There wasn’t anything heart related to worry
about in the end. It was likely a low blood pressure issue, and he has also been
overwhelmed lately for various reasons.
I used to have a dedicated day
each with my mom and dad whenever I visited them on holidays. I usually went to
the movies with my dad and had a shopping day with my mom. I don’t remember
exactly when we stopped such routines. Was it after the Gezi Park Protests?
The aftermath of these protests was among the incidents in recent Turkish
history that put cracks in our hopes for the future and the joy we get when we are
in our favorite districts in Istanbul. Or was it people in the family starting
to get older and acquiring more serious illnesses? That certainly shifted our
priorities when it came to how we spend time with the family.
Routines change over time,
usually to create space for other routines. This is how we progress in life. For
the most part, this is a good thing. But it doesn’t simplify the process of
letting go as L.M.
Montgomery also puts it.
“Outgrowing things we love is
never a pleasant process.” L.M. Montgomery, Emily of
New Moon
As a result of my many moves, coming
from a relatively more complex country, and my family situation, I think I had
to outgrow more than my fair share.
Regardless, I need to learn to
cherish whatever form of time I have with my parents, friends, other family …
rather than expecting to revive older routines. Maybe we get to do some of
those older things from time to time, but we don’t need them to put higher
value for our time.
Happy new year everyone! To new
routines! :)
