13. April. 2009      
My Dear Father,
I don’t know why I am writing this letter to you.
Today I played backgammon with you.
We had fun and laughed together and as usual I, at the age of fifty, was beaten by you.
Before we began our game, on the other hand, I was hoping to tell everyone how I would beat you.
You muttered saying “I cannot hold the dice or the stones are slipping from my hands” but you still won.
At whatever age I am, when I enter from the door of the house, I become your five year old little daughter.
No matter how much I grumble, I enjoy being your baby. Did I come alone? How did I drive the car? Did I come with the driver?
Previously, I used to get angry with your follow ups and worries about me because I thought “I had grown up and what was the point on this?”  But nowadays, I like your concern about me.
At the age of sixteen you handed me the steering wheel of the car and taught me how to drive. When I reached the age to get driving licence, you sold your car saying “that you cannot worry about me...” You were so right...
Don’t take me seriously when I behave as if I have grown too old and I know everything... I only want to assist you on the topics I know.
I have grown old as well. I have grandchildren. I comprehended many things (about myself) better when I became a mother and then a grandparent. You used to say.”You will learn when you become a mother.” I did!

When Alp was a newly born baby, I gave instructions forbidding everyone to enter his room; “he will eat, sleep, awaken on an hourly program”, I said! “And when he mutters, we will not go near his cradle.” However, when I became a grandmother, I comprehended the efforts that my dear mother-in-law had spent to listen to Alp’s breathing outside his room door.
Being the only child, I also understood later my mother’s efforts to get to know my friend’s family and when I said I wanted to go to a friend and saying “tell your friend to come to our house and you play here.”
When my two sons started to fight, I didn’t know what to do. I phoned my friends with more children and asked “My children are hustling with each other. Is this normal, what am I going to do now?”  They advised: “don’t interfere; they will team up together and even come against you.” They were so right and I learned all these by experience. Only when I became a grandmother, I have understood why and how you jumped on bicycle to go after your grandsons as soon as they got out of sight during their play at our summer site.
The other day when I combed your hair, I remembered my childhood; I jumped onto your lap and started to comb your hair for hours and you took part in my game patiently.
I didn’t say it but you forget some things and remember others so well. I told you so many times, my dear father; that you should use the new shaving foam I bought for you so that you don’t cut your face and feel comfortable. You don’t remember that; but I was very impressed about your remembering finding locations with Google on your mobile after many days as I have taught you.  I understand better now how you forget to take your medicines.
I do not interpret this as forgetfulness but think that you keep in your mind things you like and forget the ones you don’t like.
Lines go on like this... Where did I end up from a backgammon game?
I love you so much, my dear father.
Your daughter who drew teddy bear pictures on your books.




[ 17 Mayıs 2013 Cuma ]  Cicek Bricault
I sit here in tears reading your open heart pouring forth like opening an envelope and pulling out a letter we migth have written years ago for a child or grandchild of ours to read and remember and take in. Generations and wisdom rising and blooming forth. Thank you, Tulin Teze for sharing your intimate letter to your dear, honored father with us all. Sevgiler, Cicek



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