She was strong and soft. She could be funny and melancholic, remembering times past and all that had been taken from her. I'll always remember hersmell and her touch. How she loved her family above all else, like a tigress protecting her cubs.

Some could have thought that she had a hard life, but I think she had a blessed life. All that met her felt the peace and joy that emanated from her. She had a special way of looking at the world. God was her personal friend, hers' was a special kind of faith, not one that needed rules and walls but one that came from the deepest recesses of her being.

Everyday I think of her, I miss her and long to hear her her telling me stories of times past and asking me about my plans and my dreams. Sometimes I can feel her looking after me. I can talk to her in times of need and I know she is listening as always, making me feel like the most important person in the world. She was and is abuela.

If you want to share your story please write.

Bir zaman, bir yaz gecesi, yemek sonrasi sansli, buyuk aile sohbetlerinden birinde kahkahalar karpuz, kavun, yeniden ve yeniden demlenen cay kokusuna karisirken dunyanin en guzel tebessumlu kadinlarindan biri cikik, pembe elmacikkemikleri ve cenesini daha da gererek anlatmaya basladi. Onceleri geceyi aydinlatan tebessumu yerini huzne birakti.

Henuz ilkokul yillarinda mutfaginda Turk kahvesine ekmek banip kahvalti yaptigi koskte, cocugu olmayan pamuk gibi teyzesi ve onun sefaat duskunu kocasiyla yasarken cocukca nesesine golge dusuren pek de birsey yoktu. Annesi gibi bildigi teyzesi, bebekleri ve kahvesiyle mutluydu. Diger alti kardesi, annesi ve pek kiymetli ve de heybetli babasini ozluyordu ama...

Hikayenizi paylasmak istiyorsaniz lutfen yazin.