I think it was my mother's dream (hold on, that is perhaps too strong a word, let's hear that word in this context to denote something like aspiration, wish, intent, want) to have her family live under the same roof. It seems this "family comes first" obsession of mine derives from her—though, I must make it clear that by family I do not necessarily conceive blood relatives alone, for I've got several friends who are more family to me than many members of my extended and at times close family.
So I guess the first blow came when my parents decided to call it quits. It was more 'convenient' for me to stay with dad. Mother had to—or... well, it seems she preferred to—start anew. And since life is shit and making something of oneself by a woman in a society that is despicably discriminatory, it took her some time to have that roof under which her family could be together. In fact, being-together was not really enough; we had to be wealthy, healthy and together. I guess wealth always took precedence over health, but all three were musts.
So, although I'm almost thirty now, I choose to live under that roof she provides. My grandpa—my only living grandparent—is old, and I choose to be around him under that same roof. Under that roof we are comfortably enjoying our existence. Under that roof we enjoy the plentiful space that our house offers. We enjoy the garden surrounding it. We cultivate fruits, berries and vegetables. We grow roses, hydrangea, magnolia, orchids, gerania and others. And we share our spaces with our two cats (Recep and Boncuk), and our surviving dog, DuDu.
This is DuDu in this picture. And her wait is over.
For about two months, it was her, Recep, Boncuk and I that were the population of our house. And for about the first three weeks after everyone else left either for business or holiday, she would stop in the middle of the street, sit, look away out into the road, and wait, occasionally sighing. Five, ten, fifteen minutes at times. Sometimes she'd get up, walk a few steps in the direction of our home and stop once more, sit and do the same ritual again and again. She longed for her family.
Sometimes it is of no significance whatsoever what your beliefs are. Like I say, "family comes first" is what I always say and believe. But life reminds you of what that really means at moments you might not have expected. It was the first time DuDu did something like this. Every time she did it, I felt heartbroken and useless. And not only for her. That was, that is the point.
And whoever it is who said that one knows not what unconditional love is, having never owned a dog—well... that individual was absolutely right.
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