A Not So Turkish Life

The year I learnt to love

Its always enlightening, forcing yourself to look back upon the year just gone. Inevitably there are moments which stand out, events that you’ll cherish and incidents you wish hadn’t been. I always find though, that it’s not in the events that occured that define the past year but the feelings the year has encompassed.

2011 has been a year filled with breathtaking moments and photographed frames – more than that, 2011 has been a year of love and I am so thankful to all my family and friends for making it so. Thank you for sharing this year and its happiness with me.

The birth of a baby always brings to a family a dynamic of change; the first even more so. In March this year G and I found ourselves thrown into a world of which we had no control, no path to follow and one which awed us moreso each day. We had no choice but to take each day as it came, put our trust in each other and let M show us the way. We found that as parents, though we pray for his health and his happiness in life, we have no goals for our child, no dreams or aspirations – we have only one thing: unrepenting, every growing, indescribable love for this being who has transformed our world. And in finding this love, in realising the meaning of unconditional for the first time, we found it in each other, too. I truly believe now you cannot know a man until you know him as a father. Every single day my heart explodes watching my husband with our son and I am eternally grateful to Allah swt for ensuring our paths would collide.

This year, I learnt the meaning of love.

Unconditional love is something you learn as a parent, and when you do so, you realise your parents must have felt this for you. No family is conventional –there’s really no such thing –but some families are more complex than others. Mine falls into the latter and for many years I’d struggled to find the meaning of love within the complexity of the web and its maze and the paths we’d all travelled. The birth of my son made me re-appreciate my Mum for her dedication  to me on her own and so young; allowed me to see the enormity of the love shown by my step-dad on taking me on and the courage it took for my Dad to come on in. As a Mum, I appreciate the reality of parenthood, see how easy mistakes could be made and how hard it must be to correct them once made. It’s all too easy in life to hold grudges. Its too easy to allow our hearts to be trapped in the past and to miss in the bounties of now. This year I realised there are many levels of love; I want my son to experience all levels.  In 2011, I learnt that love can’t be quantified into fairness: you don’t choose who it is fair to love. The most powerful emotion in the universe  isn’t defined by  bloodline or proxiomity, its defined by an intensity that pushes you together. If you feel love, then show love: if you’re loved back, you’ll know.

In 2011 I learnt the reason for loves preciousness; that even in death it grows.

In 2011 I learnt that there is no rationalising with love – there’s no logic to the heart.

In 2011 I learnt that with love comes true fear, and through that fear, deeper love.

In 2011 I realised it’s so easy to get caught up in the world, so lost in the there that we forget to be here – love is all I need.

They say that love hits you with a lightning bolt…sometimes a 4am nappy change and a penguin-dancing man can have just the same effect.

G & M - thank you for the the rollercoaster year of my life - you are my world. I love you.

This entry was published on 12/30/2011 at 15:23. It’s filed under Life and Faith, Photos and tagged , , , , . Bookmark the permalink. Follow any comments here with the RSS feed for this post.

5 thoughts on “The year I learnt to love

  1. Beautifully stated. ❤

  2. In 2011 I learnt that with love comes true fear, and through that fear, deeper love.

    I know exactly what you mean! As a childless person, I used to joke that I have this intuition that I’ll die in my 32nd year of age. Since I’ve had kids, that shit is scaring me! (I still get that same out of body experience of learning that I’ll die at age 32….)

    • that’s a scary self-premonition there! you know they say our dreams often mean the opposite, right? i’ll bake you a cake on your 33 😉

  3. Pingback: A year of firsts..and seconds « A Not So Turkish Life

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