Heartbook

I always wanted kids - I just was never sure how it would happen.  It meant meeting the right person, overcoming lots of fears, pregnancy...birth... and now I have two and I am forever amazed at the miracle of children.  How are we, in so much imperfectness, able to raise children?  And yet, here they are - beautiful and perfect.

I learned recently that a colleague of mine aborted a child last spring.  I have always been against the idea, but now having experienced pregnancy and birth - the thought breaks my heart.  I don't feel anger or judgement against her - but against this ridiculous world we live in that is capable of such things.  We are capable of such things.  I am capable of horrible things.  And these unborn babies, miracles from conception, are vulnerable to the ugliness of this world before they are even born.

I have a new sense of fear in me.  I don't think it's unhealthy, this fear in me is helping me be less careless about my life, my words, my choices, my relationships, my daily decisions that impact me first, and then those around me.

I know a lot of things.  A lot of what I considered common sense things about relating with people - but I'm realizing too how I've forgot a lot of things.  I think I subconsciously believed that because I learned it once, I got it.  And I was set and I would keep moving "up".

Oh, it's so not true.  I'm seeing over and over again lately how many things I thought I learned, but I forgot.  Or I became static - and stopped being careful and attending to things and so I regressed so to speak.  Not to mention, there is no moving "up".

That's what living with your in-laws does to you, among other things.

My father-in-law turned his ankle...two months ago, or so.  He's overweight and waddles.  He never takes strides, so it's hard to imagine how he hurt his ankle - but one look at how he wears his shoes, and its surprising he hasn't done it sooner.  I'm not sure how he even manages to walk because his foot lays across his shoe with the heel hanging off to one side and his toes not quite all the way in the shoe.  He came to Ankara last week and went to the doctor the next day for pain meds for his ankle.

He also bought a bag of salt.  Table salt.  He poured the table salt in a frying pan to warm it up, then poured the warm salt into a cotton sack and used it as a compress.  He asked me if we did this in America.  I nodded, but said we used epsom salt.  I tried to add that we also put this salt in warm water, but his hearing aid was whistling - a now constant state.  He smiled - proud that we shared a tried-and-true cure.

I shook my head.

I called my mother-in-law on the way home to see if we needed anything for the house.
"No," she answered, "not now."
"Do we have enough bread?"
"We have a loaf and a half of bread."
"Is it enough?"
"For tonight, it's enough."
"Is Baba going to get bread in the morning?"
"No, he can't walk."
"So I should get bread."
"If you want, if you can't Gokhan will get it."

Now, I could tell the hundred irritations I have with that conversation, but it's not my point.  My point is my reactions in my heart, my judgements, and my lack of grace.  My inability to not react, and cut through the chase and say - Woman!  I'm offering to pick up what we need - tell me what we need!

My brother-in-law was laid off from his job just before the new year.  He's home now, and the cycle begins again.  Looking for a job, depressed, at home... but it's different this time too.  With my father-in-law ill, it's a comfort to have him home.  We was working too many hours and not being paid consistently.  He often claimed to be working on "projects" at night and on the weekend as well.  I'm not sure I totally believed this, it sometimes seemed to be an excuse to withdraw to his room - and now that he's not working, he's still withdrawing - but the kids are good for everybody.  I mean, you CAN'T ignore them.  They wake you up, demand to be played with, take things from your drawers, and just hearing their little voices make sentences melts all of our hearts.

Gokhan is now doing the grocery shopping...sort of.  He is running to the store and buying cheese, white bread, eggs, nuts, coke...all his favorite things and things that are killing his parents, but they love too.  I'm not so sure how thrilled I am about this.

But, in light of all the things we are all facing - some things will and need to fall away.  I saw this colleague of mine again today.  She had seem pictures of Teoman and Tomris I had posted and commented on how amazed she was about how they've grown.  She also lamented about her loss last spring - well aware of what her choice meant to so many people that were hoping for child but could not.  She said, "I'm not happy about it, but what I did was right.  Even my mother supported me because I wasn't doing well last spring and I'm not happy in my marriage.  Maybe one day.  Time will tell."

And today my heart broke for her.  I know seeing my two children so happy and beautiful in the face of her own struggles can only raise a whole bunch of bad feelings.  And here in is the switch I'm seeing in my own heart with my age: There is a point in life when "high school" reigns.  Comparing yourself to others situations, getting affirmation from "likes" on Facebook.  Sharing what you accomplished and feeling validated by it.  In my own school, I feel as if I suddenly became part of the "cool" crowd, friending all these people - and it feels horrible.  Because...because...there is just so much tragedy in everyone's life.  Everyone has a very rich story, but it's so much more than what we tell in our daily lives.  I don't necessarily want to dwell on it, but I don't want to dwell on the superficial either.  The superficial is super lonely.  Social media is connecting us so much more now, and disconnecting us at the same time.  What do I really want to know about people?  What they've overcome I guess, but that could be difficult because we are always over coming and struggles aren't so easy, and maybe aren't so wise to put on a public platform.

In my old church, we had a leader who was "struggling".  I don't know what his struggle was, and it didn't really matter to me.  What I will always remember is how the church handled it.  The pastor announced that this leader was struggling, that God takes all through different times in our lives, and for this time it was best that the man did not stay in a leadership position.  And then, several came around him, blessed him and prayed for him.  I felt no condescension or judgment in the action, but beautiful example of loving someone just where they were at.

Maybe in the evolution of social media, we could get there.  A page that pushes deeper conversation and relationship.  With all the time we spend skimming the surfaces of media, will we ever break this habit?  I will be going home soon to visit family - every visit I get together with two cousins from my childhood - we sit down and ask "How are you?" and we all know this is not a superficial question with a simple answer.  We love each other, we have history, and we always have stories to tell - and these are what I want to hear.