Another Day

Thursday night my father died.  We were so stunned and exhausted that we came home, had a drink and went to bed.  It took us a long time to go to sleep.  I know this because I slept with my mom that night.  Neither one of us wanted to sleep by ourselves.

Friday we woke up, and the sun was still shining, and my father was still dead.  I made pea soup, called my husband, researched how to submit obituaries and managed not to die of sadness.

Saturday I woke up, and the sun was still shining, and my father was still dead.   It helped to know that my husband was coming in Saturday night.  My brother’s girlfriend is amazing.  She was (and is) so helpful.  She was at the hospital all afternoon on Thursday, brought sandwiches, and helped advocate for my father.  She drove down to Boston and picked up my husband from the Boston airport at 11:30 PM and then drove 2 hours north to our home.

I have felt so supported by my family and friends, people sending food and calling.  Many of my friends emailed me such wonderful things.  One friend tried to move heaven and earth to get food and flowers delivered to my remote home.  Another went through my closet finding clothes I asked to be sent to the States with Bülent.    The last few days have been extremely difficult, but with the help of friends and family it has been, maybe not less painful, but a more supported journey.

My Father, Dan

Born 1943-Died January 19, 2012 after a long and valiant battle with cancer.


Dan was a complex person, passionate about life and his family. He had a raucous sense of humor and a quick wit—he filled our lives with warmth and mirth. He fought for the best he could provide, for our family and our community. As a man of conviction, he may have butted heads with others along the way, but never let that get in the way of his integrity and honor. Despite the many hardships he’s encountered, he’s always been an adamant optimist. I think there are few people who could survive what he had and still be able to say that.

He was a fighter, when he was first diagnosed with cancer 15 years ago, he fought with a vengeance. I remember him telling me he just couldn’t leave when we were so little. I am grateful to him for that, that though I still feel “little,” I am now an adult who knows my own mind and heart, largely due to him.

He had a presence so huge that it is hard to imagine a world without him. I am grateful for every moment I had with him, and every memory I have for the future.



He will be missed.

Newly Wed? Yes. Baby? No.

This summer I got married.  Somehow it was not shocking to my friends or family.  Maybe that was because we had been together for five years, and had been engaged for one and a half.

I would have been happy to go along in our engaged way for many a year, but Bulent, in his infinite wisdom, encouraged me to marry him sooner rather than later.  I am so glad he convinced me.  Being married (to him) is fantastic.  I don’t know why.   We were in love before, but somehow marriage makes it all fresh and dewy and wonderful.

Now that we are married, everyone seems to be asking us the same question.  When are you having babies? What is interesting is that my family, and his family are not pressuring us—actually they don’t really mention it.  It is our co-workers, our dentist, the people at the dog park and various random other people we barely know at all that are trying to convince us to have children sooner than later.    I was actually told—by a casual acquaintance—that my life has no meaning because I don’t have children.  Bullshit.

Every time I wear a loose shirt or tunic at work people ask me if I am pregnant.  Sometimes I tell them yes, just to freak them out.  Though in their defense, there are so many pregnant teachers at work it looks contagious.

I am also confused by these strangers who are pressuring me to have children.  What is up with that?  What’s their angle? What will they gain from it?   Trust me, if I know your dog’s name but not yours, we probably won’t be hanging out.

Has anyone else noticed this?  Once you get married people think your biological clock becomes a bomb and people nearby try to diffuse it so you don’t explode.  Are they afraid they are in danger?

A lot of my friends, my age and older,  have kids.  They are wonderful and fantastic and I love them.  Kids are great, but  we are not there yet.  We are not aboard the baby train.  Though, practice makes perfect and I am not going to lie and say we don’t enjoy the practice.