Working in D&R Marmara Forum I noticed 'anne' (mother in Turkish) sitting at the next table. On her table lay her old style simple mobile phone and a little coloured note book.
She was facing the wall so wasn't able to watch the passers by and soon fell asleep.
By-and-by an Iranian family of father, mother, daughter, and son came and sat next to her. Actually they occupied the space that was hers really, but as she was straddling between two tables they appeared to feel it was ok to effectively "move her over".
Well.. she didn't move at all. She was asleep after all. However, due to the newcomers commotions she woke and noticed the young children. She took particular interest in the young boy who was about 5 years old. Dark haired and handsome like his father.
As is the custom she grabbed hold of his partly flabby arm and squeezed it gently conveying her love for him. At first the mother looked a little alarmed, but soon relaxed as people often interact with children in this way here and she could clearly see the older lady, who herself was about 65, meant no harm.
She was facing the wall so wasn't able to watch the passers by and soon fell asleep.
By-and-by an Iranian family of father, mother, daughter, and son came and sat next to her. Actually they occupied the space that was hers really, but as she was straddling between two tables they appeared to feel it was ok to effectively "move her over".
Well.. she didn't move at all. She was asleep after all. However, due to the newcomers commotions she woke and noticed the young children. She took particular interest in the young boy who was about 5 years old. Dark haired and handsome like his father.
As is the custom she grabbed hold of his partly flabby arm and squeezed it gently conveying her love for him. At first the mother looked a little alarmed, but soon relaxed as people often interact with children in this way here and she could clearly see the older lady, who herself was about 65, meant no harm.
Now awake the lovely bespectacled elder lady simply sat in her chair not moving. She'd decided that she'd become part of the Iranian soirée. She made an effort to communicate in Turkish to which the mother replied in clear English, "I'm sorry I don't understand you."
That didn't prevent further discussions as they developed their own system of raising eye-brows, waving hands, smiling and pointing.
When the conversation petered out anne relaxed back into herself and resumed her vigil.
Minutes became hours and she seemed concerned that her expected guest might not arrive. I was myself getting worried for her and wondered why she didn't use her mobile phone to connect and ask what the delay was due to. It's quite customary for the younger generation to call and chase whomever immediately upon the arrival of the agreed time.
By now she'd been waiting for over 2 hours which resulted in her previously calm manner becoming one more akin to refrained stress. She started to regularly turn around to survey the bookstore entrance and as she turned back the frown on face grew.
Finally, I was put out of my suspense and discovered who she had so patiently been sitting for. Her son.
As he sat down next to her he presented her with a calculator that he'd just bought. A little discourse ensued whereby she initially protested and then after his explanation she quietly, resignedly said, "Tamam" (ok).
She stretched out for his shirt collar and busily tidied it up even though there was nothing obviously awry with it. Then she with great love and kindness stroked his sleeveless arm. Nay, she caressed his arm as though he were a beloved pet.
As sons are want to do he paid little attention and proceeded to talk about his own business.
A discussion soon followed between all parties in English with the son occasionally translating for his mother. The Iranian visitors left. The mother sat revelling in the presence of her son and looked as though this was the maximum happiness she might attain in life.
As a bystander it was a beautiful thing to watch...
The love that only a mother can have for her son.
