A Not So Turkish Life

Brothers in Arms

It might be seeing your face light up T, as you spy M from the corner of your eye, or hearing you belly laugh as he pulls off your socks. It might be peeking round the doorway so as not to break the moment and watching your entire body tense anticipatory for M to bounce on the mattress before you’ll bounce, roll and giggle in unison. Sometimes it’s while cleaning up the crumbs from an impromptu picnic together or when quiet is punctuated with a squeal of delight followed by a responding satisfied chuckle. It’s when you, M, run as fast as your legs carry you, face beaming to “Tarka” when you see he’s awoken, desperate to pull him back into our day, and it’s hearing your requests for “date, Mummy: Baby. Date, Mummy, Tarka.” making sure he’s fed first and always, even when it’s cookies on the plate. It’s when the day’s end draws near as we curl into my bed and your touch lightens way beyond your years, resting one stroking hand onto T’s sleepy head, with the other twine his fingers between yours.

Whatever the time and whenever the moment, being with you brothers as you fall deeply in love is the most immense of dunya’s possible gifts. Keep linking arms babies, life is better together.

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This entry was published on 04/16/2013 at 06:26 and is filed under Uncategorized. Bookmark the permalink. Follow any comments here with the RSS feed for this post.

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