Not because I feel no pain, but because I have found something far more worthy of my tears.
For twenty years… For twenty whole years, I cannot recall a single instance when my heart didn’t sink at the sound of the phone ringing. That damned ringing was always either a final notice before foreclosure or an overdue debt warning. Not once did I press the green button without checking who was calling. Except for the last three or four years, the cell phone was among the things I hated most in this world. Is it better now? Not really, it’s just not as unbearable as before (I even set the ringtone to birdsong). No, of course it hasn’t truly changed; I’ve simply surrendered. I no longer fight; I no longer object.
What hurts the most is how both my daughters grew — from infancy to childhood, and the elder into youth — and I missed it all. I never truly tasted the joy of fatherhood. That is my deepest regret. By my very nature, whenever I see that things are not right or under my control, I cannot find joy in anything, not even in the blessings I possess. What a waste I made of my own life, and theirs. As much as it stings, it has all become a memory now. But my children will never be small again. Go ahead, pay the price and try to buy back five or ten years if you can.
For a few months now, the bathroom faucet has been dripping, and so has the one in the small restroom. They’ve been sitting on the “urgent to-do” list for three months. Honestly, it would be great if someone came over and fixed the kitchen counter too. The list just keeps growing. I suppose as long as I am alive, this list will never end. Human beings are needy creatures; how could it ever end? It might sound like an absurd analogy, but if you were to stop a loaded hearse, lift the deceased (I warned you it was absurd), place a pen and paper in their hand, and ask them to write down everything they planned to do but couldn’t, you would spend hours waiting.
During the hardest times right after the pandemic, a relative of my wife kindly sent us some money through his son to help us out. When that money was stolen on the metrobus, I stopped crying for the world and its troubles. I remember collapsing to my knees on the living room floor and screaming, “Is this it, Lord? Is this all?” The poor boy — they took his wallet along with our money, losing a substantial sum of his own cash and cards as well. Even now, whenever I see him, I feel a pang of shame.
When that happened, it was our second time being evicted, and the third was already on its way — and it happened. I cried so much for years. I cried without shame for my age. Does a person go and open their shop on a Sunday just to cry where no one can see them? God is my witness, I never shed a single tear for myself. It was the third birthday I had postponed to the next year, hoping to give my daughter the day she wanted — maybe the fourth. I don’t even remember how many I missed for my eldest. Despite working harder than any normal human being could bear for 13 years, I kept crying because even that wasn’t enough to give them what they deserved. We have a saying in Turkish, “sabah ola hayrola” — let the morning come, and with it, what is good. I always said that and waited for the next morning…
It felt as though there were a force hovering above my head, watching me, doing everything in its power to ensure that whenever I gave my word to someone or signed my name to something, it would end in humiliation. At one point, I found myself drifting toward Satanism. Whenever I opened my mouth, my wife would leave the room. I had begun to view what was happening to me as divine tyranny. That feeling bred hatred within me. After all, someone had to be responsible — if not me, then who? I cannot begin to tell you what crossed my mind; if a fraction of it had slipped from my lips, I would have been cast out from everywhere (and at the time, I couldn’t have cared less).
I thought long and hard about whether this was retribution for my past actions. When my thoughts led to absurd places, I stopped. I knew that if every mistake were punished in full, humanity wouldn’t survive forty days. Think about it: one of the children of the first human killed the other. This was something else. Did I deserve it? I believe I did. Especially certain things… I still can’t believe I was the one who did them. I felt deep, profound regret.
Now I realize that if a single frame of that terrible movie I watched for 20 years had been missing, I wouldn’t be the person I am today. If even one pain had been spared, I wouldn’t be able to think this way now. It turns out this was the firing of the clay — shaping the clay-made human with the heat of the furnace. Poor me… if only I had understood kindness and become a better man through blessings instead of fire. But if this is the only language a human understands, what is God to do?
Now, I cry more than ever. But this time, it is neither for myself nor for my family. I stopped crying for my family and children the day I looked at our table — even during the deepest days of poverty — and saw three types of meat dishes and two different desserts. Somehow, food was always on that table. If we are alive, our sustenance will come; I have no doubt about that. A rich man doesn’t have two stomachs to eat more than I do. Besides, worrying about that is not my job, but Someone else’s.
Now, I weep deeply for the heavily pregnant young homeless woman I saw in a documentary. As someone who has raised children, knowing what she will face in a month or two is utterly devastating. I cry for the mother and father who haven’t heard from their young children in years. I can’t even empathize; I can’t bear it. But I know all of this will pass. What I truly weep for is seeing rational people finding peace and comfort in material possessions, abandoning what is real to be happy with the empty shell. That, I know, will never pass.
Now, my friend, please don’t take what I am about to say as the typical talk of an “old man giving advice.” Regardless of your color, gender, appearance, belief, or preference, you are the most precious thing in existence. You are a unique, irreplaceable flower in the garden of humanity. No matter what anyone says, you are the most beautiful. Write down the advice of someone offering you lessons bought at a high price, but leave it at that.
And as for those who try to tell you about God, trying to pull you onto the “right path” according to their own view — turn your back on them and walk away. Because they are explaining to you a God of their own creation, not the One who created them. Yours belongs to you; theirs belongs to them. This is as true in a church as it is in a mosque. God created human beings so they might discover Him, not invent a God for themselves. Let theirs stay with them. Do what you know to be right.
Pick up a pen and paper today and make a list of everything making your life difficult. You will see that almost all of them are things that can be fixed with money. And if they cannot be fixed with money, then may God truly be your helper. But if they can be fixed with money, aren’t they cheap things after all? Doesn’t it mean they merely have a price tag? I understand you: where there is scarcity, there is pain, and there is shame. Think of these pains as medicine. If you had been written off and given the world merely as a consolation prize, would you feel any better?
The first day of spring lies immediately behind the last day of winter; hold on just a little longer. Believe me, help is on the way. Everything comes to an end. Nothing stays entirely good or entirely bad forever. What lies in between is what we call life. Now, stand in front of the mirror and say, “I am the most precious. There is no other like me, and the entire universe exists for me.” Everything troubling your heart will soon become a memory. You will be left only with the wear and tear you inflicted on yourself, looking 10 or 15 years older simply because of this distress. If only it were worth it.
If you can, step back from people for a while. Try to be alone. Instead of listening to what everyone else is doing, listen to your own heart for a time. To find your place, do not look above; look below. What has been given to you is precisely what you need. If you do not know the value of what you hold today, you will not value the things you dream of tomorrow either. Look at your possessions once more and weigh their true worth. For how much money could you buy that precious spouse and those beautiful children? Or that sibling, or those parents? Enjoy them while you still have them. As for tomorrow?
As I said: let the morning come, and with it, what is good.
