My Father's Wings: A Journey Through Mountains

My father was born in the Develi district of Kayseri in 1954, and after working as a teacher for a while, he became a school principal and continued this duty for thirty-five years. He is a person who knows all the schools in Develi, the principals of the period, some teachers, the employees of the provincial and district national education directorate… in short, everyone in Develi, whom everyone knows, respects and loves very much. He was not only a school principal, he touched every life and left a mark. Even walking on the road with him is difficult because a greeting awaits you at every step and an acquaintance at every corner.

My father: "I don't know who you know? Hah, I don't know what kind of son he has (!)

Me: "Heh, okay, I knew (sometimes it's a lie)."

You get tired not of walking, but of shaking hands and shaking heads when greeting.

My father has loved me and my sisters very much for as long as I can remember. Although he had difficulty showing his love during my middle school and high school years because he grew up in a closed environment, he is now much more comfortable about it. Even when I spent time with my family during holidays and left to return to university, there were moments when we hugged each other for a long time while saying goodbye.

In my childhood and adolescence, there was only "being successful" in my life. I always had to be at the forefront and the best. I had great responsibilities that came with being the son of such a well-known person. If, in this state, I could teleport back to my childhood and say one sentence to little Alparslan, that child playing with his Aladdin toy or Legos, it would be: "You don't have to succeed; relax, calm down." it would be. We didn't have much of a relationship with my father at that time because since I was a child, I went to bed early; As far as I remember, my father, who was the school principal and even the principal of Develi, would often come home late.

I was an arrogant person during my middle school and high school years. Because I was flattered by those around me, I often did not listen to anyone and thought that my peers were garbage anyway and that I was already far ahead of them. During my teenage years, my relationship with my father was naturally turbulent. Since he was a very well-known person, my every move was involuntarily watched. If I happen to be seen together with someone who has a reputation for being evil in the district, I would say, "Your son is walking around with that person." He would send the news to him. When I returned home, I would be asked who the person I was seeing and why I was meeting him, and I wouldn't even understand the reason for the questions. He even knew that I had a girlfriend before I did. So someone would see me with a normal group of friends and immediately rush me to him. When I come home my father

"Do you have a girlfriend?" he asks, and I

"My girlfriend? Is there any? Why don't I know? Who was he anyway? Do you think I can like someone in Develi and look at his face? I would answer.

I am not writing what I wrote out of artistry, I definitely remember giving this answer.

Then came the university years and I spent much less time in Develi during that period. Our communication with my father decreased even further; It wasn't bad, but it was barely there. Don't worry, don't worry; Thank God we are great now!

I ran in the Cappadocia Ultra race last October (October 2023). (I do not have an article about the race I mentioned, but you can read my article about my previous 2019 Cappadoccia Ultra race here.) My mother and father were also in Develi at that time. Cappadocia and Develi are very close to each other. My mother and father said to me, "We will take you and stay here for a few days." they said. I did not approach at first. From where?

When I was in high school, my father took us to Göreme in Cappadocia with his Toros, but we were very nervous as a family, thanks to the one-car, narrow, sharply winding roads of Topuz Mountain with a cliff on one side. Because the road was problematic, I didn't want them to come, get tense or have difficulty. My father was seventy years old, but what they insisted on was, "Let's take you." Since they said, I said, "Okay." I said.

The race finished on Saturday, and they came to pick me up on Sunday, but right in the middle of the road, it rained, I can't explain. At first, so that my father would not have any more difficulties, he said, "Don't come to where the hotel is, I'll go down to the square." I said, but what is possible when there is pouring rain? "Where are you?", "I wonder where they are?", "Are they okay?", "The road was already difficult, and with the rain added, one cannot even see what is ahead." While I was giving birth to nine, I saw that they appeared at the door. I can't explain how I hugged them and how happy I was. It had been a while since we met. I barely carried the suitcase under that rain and got into the car, and what memories and things came to my mind in the car…

Our car smells the same as it did when I was a kid. Grams have not changed. Many memories came to my mind: On a Saturday, early in the morning, I had not yet fully woken up to go to Ilipınar (our land where we cultivated gardens) and was dragged into the car. Behind me, in the trunk, is our dog Mercan; He is watching the road with excitement, drooling on the back of the seat, his big mouth open, his shoe tongue sticking out, his neck breathing, waiting to be released. We are singing Ogün Şanlısoy's song "Saydım" with my sisters…

Under that rain, in a few minutes, I felt like I experienced these and much more again, and a childlike happiness filled me.

I was in Develi now. My running coach, Özgür Tetik, started to pressure me to do a ten-kilometer recovery run. I left the house, and it had only been one and a half kilometers when I passed in front of the high school where I studied. This road, which I ran in just eleven minutes, seemed so far away to me during my high school years, how enlarged it was in my eyes. I couldn't believe it, so I calculated it again on the way back. Yes, it was definitely eleven minutes and I was at jog pace, so definitely not fast. Since I also had a potential injury, I didn't even think about pushing myself. (An Alp in good form ran one and a half kilometers, his personal record, in just five minutes and thirty-seven seconds. He also broke the 5K record with teacher Özgür last year: Twenty-three minutes, thirty seconds. 4.40 pace.)

I was feeling good. Spending time with my mother and father in Develi reminded me of the good old days. I had a lot of fun choosing the items and old photographs I would take from Develi to Istanbul. Emre Kuruyemiş, whose seeds we loved and whose seeds I even took two kilos of seeds to Istanbul, was still open, but I had not heard good things about Çınaraltı Market and our uncle Yaşar. Suyolcu Stationery was closed, I was sad. The mentalities were the same. Anyway, I won't go there.

My uncle had passed away. My father wasn't feeling well. When he wasn't okay, my mother wouldn't be okay either. That's why coming here was good for both him and my mother. My uncle was a very valuable person whom I loved and respected very much. Rest in peace.

The best thing for my father was the mountains. Most of all, Develi Mountain, where he spent his childhood and youth, reminds him of his memories with my grandfather and late uncles.

I was a child until university; As Alparslan, who has completed his conscious and personal development after university with my mother and father, we have never had such a free and pleasant time in Develi.

I took two days off from work. My father's best friend, Uncle Emir Ali, me, Mehmet Develioğlu (a warm-hearted, sweet relative) and my father. We took provisions and water to drink; We fell on rocky, even rocky, potholed, hilly, dirt mountain roads with the Toros, which I have been talking about since the beginning of the article. I can't explain how relieved and peaceful we feel when we get fresh air. It was as if we were not leaving Develi, but because of our troubles, experiences and difficulties. It was as if we were not going uphill, but were going to make up for the time we lost with my father. We anchored under a large willow tree. We took the empty bags and went out to look for mushrooms.

My father and I had the best, most enjoyable conversations we've ever had. Rather than talking, I listened more and he talked at length: the memories that came to his mind about my grandfather and grandmother, my uncle's football stories, what happened while boiling molasses… We had been on good terms for a long time, and this was further strengthened by this beautiful mountain trip. The conversation did not stop. We collected mushrooms together, more than we could eat…

Then you turn around and see the huge Mount Erciyes, 3916 meters high; You turn to tectonics, rocks formed by the freezing of lava that gushed from the ground or from Develi Mountain centuries ago; You are returning once again, the endless steppe is under your feet, as far as the eye can see. How can one not feel relieved?

Normally, I hate writing and sharing recipes, but I will talk about this dish because it has a precious place in our memories and is so simple that anyone can prepare it. We were hungry, so we cracked some eggs into the picnic tube. Sometimes because of the pain, sometimes because of the beautiful air of the mountain that does not cause cold or sweat, "Ohhh!" We had a good meal.

This trip helped us regain the time we lost with my father and revive our childhood memories. The best part of life is the memories we make and the times we share with our loved ones. The harsh winds and difficult roads of the mountains further strengthened our bond with my father. These special moments I spent with him have become among the memories that I will remember and cherish throughout my life.

This trip reminded me that what really matters in life is not the achievements, but the moments we spend with our loved ones. In the future, I hope to spend more time with my loved ones and create more memories with them. The hours I shared with my father in the solitude of the mountains, accompanied by the chirping of birds on the rocks, will shed light on my path and be my source of inspiration throughout my life. Knowing that my father is with me on every difficult road and every bend will give me great strength and courage to stand up and continue the fight; It will make me and us stronger. I hope everyone has the opportunity to experience such special moments with their loved ones.

This article originally published in Medium.