Towards the end of June, it’s gotten really hot in Turkey. Bilgin started saying “I had enough with this heat and humidity.” But there I was, hanging on to every drop of sunshine. It meant family, it meant loved ones. One evening alone at home, I sat on the windowsill of our 5th-floor apartment, my new favourite Turkish song on Spotify, volume at highest I grabbed a cold beer one after another. I sang along. I was so happy I cried. I watched the street five floor down, the mayhem of traffic, kids on motorbikes with no helmets, Turkish flag hanging over shops, all kind of shops, still not sure what purpose they served. I grabbed another beer. I felt the weightlessness. The sun was washing the world with its glory. There was no past, no future. I felt the presence Mariana kept talking about in yoga classes. I sang along with Birsen Tezer. I imagined a town, where my mother lived down the street from me, my best friend few blocks down, my lover just around the corner. My kids bumped into his kids every day and we became brother and sister.
This morning on the way to school, Ada and I played the song “Summertime Sadness” we sang along, replayed it. I looked at her glorious face through the mirror and we got lost in “now” again and it was awesome. “Now” is awesome, the problem is always with either past or future.