2. THIS IS ONLY THE BEGIN. STORIES OF A FUTURE TO BE TOLD (ENG VERSION)

1. Memories of an unforgettable summer

                                                       ONE YEAR LATER...

Dear diary,

another summer has passed. Beautiful, full of memories and beautiful experiences of love, friendship, family, and laughter.... Lots of laughter. Yes, because when you have three little brats as sweet as honey but as tough as lions, ready to get into a little trouble, how can you not smile? Every day I thank heaven for this wonderful gift. I haven't known what sadness means for about 6 years now.

6... it's weird just thinking about it. Can you believe it? My three little birds are six. 6! Where has the time flown, I wonder?

Tomorrow they will begin a new chapter in their lives, and Can and I, with them.

I am writing to you in front of a beautiful sunset, sitting on the jetty at home with my feet caressed by the waves of the sea. From tomorrow it will truly be a new beginning for everyone.

A new chapter in our lives. I am so excited!

Maybe I am more excited than they are about starting primary school. I've been ready for days now.

I open their cupboards in the morning and as I put their things away, I look at those folders bigger than them with their names written on, and for a moment I smile. But that smile, before I know it, is ready to turn into a frown and tears ready to escape. So, as is my wont, I close the shutters as quickly as possible and with them the tap of my feelings.

Anyway.... Back to us. I'm going to fill you in a little.

The twins have grown so much and it's nice to interact with them. They each have their own distinct personality now. You should see them!

Deniz, for example, the boy of the house, is a little rascal just like his father. He is full of energy, playful, cheerful, protective and nothing scares him. He is an excellent big brother and is very attentive to his sisters. He has a marked sensitivity that he masks under his little man's all-hands-on-deck appearance. But I know his eyes. I know them very well. Same cut, same colour and same depth of gaze. How could I not recognise them? Me of a rascal with two eyes like that, I fell in love.

That is why, just like her father, Deniz's eyes are and will always be an open book for me. They cannot hide anything from me. But let's not get too much into the subject, otherwise I could go on forever.

I was saying.... He is very attached to Can, and always has been since his birth. Sometimes I stop to watch them, and I notice the completely rapt look with which he watches his father explain something to him, anything, even the most trivial.

He is his idol. There is such admiration in his gaze that, at times, it reminds me a little of my own from the beginning. I see the young, inexperienced Sanem at Fikri Harika looking up to her boss with esteem and admiration. But if this makes him look like me, the same cannot be said of sport.

Deniz loves all kinds of sports. And how could it be otherwise with a father like that? Very often, we women of the home, watch football or basketball games in the garden, cheering like cheerleaders. We have a great time. Oh, I forgot, and besides... he's very close to his grandmother Mevkibe.

Ates, on the other hand, is a pepper. She's definitely taken after my character, she's the messiest. She's stubborn, and when she sets her mind to something, she does it, very often risking injury. But fortunately she has also taken traits from her father.

She is very sweet and cuddly. She really loves physical contact which makes her feel safe, but when she gets angry.... Ah! When she gets angry with her brothers, she is a rage!

Can says she's all her mother... and for better or worse, I can't blame him.

We have some things in common. She is very fascinated by nature, and the stories of the birds that Grandpa Nihat and I, tell her. Sometimes we spend hours in the clearing in front of the hut looking for wild flowers or recognising bird species, both armed with our binoculars. We fight over who recognises them first and have a lot of fun.

Yildiz on the other hand, just as my mother predicted at birth, is a mix of both, I can really see that now. Aesthetically, he has taken the colours of my father, Emre and Leyla. Light blue eyes and ash blond hair. She is a very calm child, perhaps the quietest of the three, but also the shrewdest. She is very precise and cares a lot about appearance. She loves to choose her clothes in the morning, loves to read, and loves photography.

Characteristically, she is the toughest of the three to understand. She is closed, but not cold, although she can give that impression. In reality she is a very sensitive child who likes to have her own space. She is the most independent. Among family members, she is very close to my sister and her grandfather Aziz. It is no coincidence that it was Emre who saw a certain resemblance from the very first meeting, and perhaps, despite his inexperience, he saw right through it. My dear brother-in-law sees Leyla everywhere!

And we come to the fateful choice of school. It was an odyssey! The whole family wanted to give their advice. My mother aimed for the same primary school I went to in the neighbourhood. "So I can go and pick them up myself". She insisted.

Mrs. Huma who in one of her video calls from Australia would list the best public schools to enrol our children in, counting on her good word for us.

Mihriban who proposed the public school in the village near the estate.

Aziz who would opt for them to attend the same school as Can. Also private.

My sister who, by her usual standards, instead proposed one of the last schools opened in Istanbul that followed a very European type of education. A state-of-the-art school, complete with all amenities and with a curriculum that would have made an American college envious.

In the end, Can and I followed our instincts and chose our ideal school. All the recommended ones did not convince us at all.

We both agreed that glossy schools were not suitable. We did not want our children to attend a boarding school that forced them to wear uniforms. Every child is unique, and we wanted our children to be free to express themselves freely even in the way they dress.

That is why we found a school in Istanbul that we fell in love with. No uniforms.

It is a public school, but what struck me was the family atmosphere there. We were able to attend classes and there is a nice garden. The children can learn and have fun outside and the classrooms are full of colourful drawings. But the sweetest thing, are the rows of coat racks with each child's backpack hanging on them with their name tags. Just thinking about them makes me tear up. Too sweet!

The choice of school had to be well thought out considering that our children will spend a good eight years there (aged 6 to 14). Compared to the other schools, whose spaces, including the staff, were terrifying to see, only this one convinced us, because the surroundings were inviting to go to school. To be honest, I would have gone back there too!

And putting myself in a child's shoes, surely a friendly and comfortable environment inspires confidence and makes people want to go to school.

For public school there is time, we said to each other with Can. Certainly for high school, once the children have a greater awareness of their sense of duty for studying and school, we will provide accordingly. But for now, I am very happy with our decision, and I believe we have chosen the best for our children...

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Hello reader! :)

Thank you for reading the first chapter of this second story. 

If you'd like to leave me a comment. 

Until the next one.