I would like to talk about the woman who has been in my life the longest (and I think she will stay that way). She wasn’t there when I opened my eyes to this world, but she is the one I considered as my mother instead of those who were there, the one everyone adored but quickly distanced themselves from once they entered her life…
I experienced many firsts with her. I learned everything that a person needs to deserve the basic human qualities from her. She added so much to my life without even realizing it that if she knew, she would probably give me one of her mocking smiles. Her biggest difference was what she added to people without realizing it.
Born into a family left in ruins under the empire, she became a widow after an unpleasant marriage, and then married a handsome and, when possible, “emotional” man as a single mother with two children. After all the suffering, she suddenly turned into a small-scale queen who was held in high regard. She was so accustomed to the limitless power of love that she would go crazy at the slightest dose deficiency. Therefore, she would first drown people she met in excessive love and then erase them at the same speed when she didn’t get the same in return.
Those who knew her couldn’t decide whether to describe her as extremely violent or excessively generous. Everyone’s mind was so confused about this that even at her funeral, praises and sentences starting with “but” were mixed up. However, when I encountered her a week after I left her at the age of 18, she cried saying, “Are you talking about that woman as if she were me now?” I understood her. That day, I discovered that she was a complete “reverse tulip” and I started calling her that.
After that day, none of the harsh words she said to me affected me, and in our harshest fights, I suddenly stopped, hugged her, and started inhaling her scent. She was a difficult woman, but like every woman, she was not incomprehensible. It was just enough to try to understand her. She was so captivated by the magic of excessive love that she probably wanted everyone to love her more, and likely, all the love to be concentrated in her. Due to this dangerous addiction, she couldn’t fully express her love even if she died.
The times when I could be a child in her arms are behind us. Nowadays, I can only be a child and cry when I remember her. In recent months, in almost every conversation, I notice that I start sentences with “The late one used to say,” and I shiver as if I were secretly criticizing her, just like in the times when she annoyed me.
She left this world on the eve of a holiday. This is my third holiday without her, and like the others, I can’t feel this one like a holiday. This article has been on my desk for two years. I still can’t look, touch, or talk to any woman her age these days.
Rest in peace, my Reverse Tulip. You won’t believe it, but I miss you a lot.