For the fathers of martyrs, Father's Day is very special... Today, we wanted to witness the emotions of fathers who long to hear their children's voices. The pain does not lessen, the longing does not cease, but we see the pride bestowed by martyrdom in their dignified gaze. Mustafa Kırıkçı says he has lived for years with the pain of not being able to hear his son's voice.
İzzet Kavcı describes his longing with the words, 'I still wait, thinking the door will open and Bayram will come in...' In Can Polat Usta's heart, there is the pride he feels for his child's martyrdom...
Speaking on Father's Day, the fathers of martyrs recount the pain they have carried for years and the honorable legacy that keeps them standing tall. While Father's Day is celebrated as a special day for millions of families to share love, longing, and happiness, very different emotions are felt in the homes of martyr families.
This special day, once given meaning by the gifts brought by their children and their tight embraces, has now become a symbol of deep longing and unceasing yearning for the fathers of martyrs. We met with fathers of martyrs living in different cities of Turkey on the occasion of Father's Day.
Some could not hold back tears while recounting their son's childhood memories, others said they still cannot touch their child's room despite the passing years. Although each has a different story, their common point was the same; an indescribable longing for their children who gave their lives for the homeland and the dignified stance given by being proud of them...
Fathers who remember the day they received the news of martyrdom as if it were yesterday, even though years have passed, told of their struggle to keep their children's names alive. The fathers of martyrs, whose eyes sometimes well up while looking at photographs and who sometimes try to maintain their composure, expressed their feelings with the words: 'The fire burns where it falls. There is no description for the pain of losing a child. But they gave their lives so that this homeland may live.'
On this Father's Day as well, the first stop for many fathers of martyrs was their child's grave. Fathers visiting the cemeteries with flowers in their hands experienced a spiritual meeting with their children by praying. Although each carries the same sorrow, the pride given by their children attaining the rank of martyrdom enables them to stand tall alongside their pain.
Because for them, martyrdom is not just a loss, but also the name of the greatest price paid for the homeland. Let us now listen to the words of the grieving but proud fathers... I LIVE WITH HIS MEMORIES On Father's Day, in some homes, surprises prepared by children are talked about, while in others, a longing that has not ceased for years grows silently.
One of the addresses where that silence is felt most heavily is the homes of martyr families... Mustafa Kırıkçı, the father of Yener Kırıkçı who fell as a martyr in Hakkâri on April 21, 2019, says he experiences the same pain and the same pride together every Father's Day. And he adds: 'A person cannot describe some pains. Words are not enough. The pain of losing a child is one of them.
There are days you feel alone in the crowd, days you feel as if you hear your son's voice in the quietest corner of the house. But when you look back, you see that you now live only with his memories. Father's Day was very different for me before. My son would call, ask how I was, say a few kind words. Now, I don't wait for the phone to ring, I wait for his memories to fall into my heart.
A person can sometimes get lost for hours looking at a photograph.' THE LONGING RESEMBLES NOTHING ELSE Father Kırıkçı, who tells of Yener Kırıkçı growing up with hard work, integrity, and love for the homeland, said his son's childhood years still do not leave his mind's eye: 'It feels like just yesterday. He was a small child. Then he became a young man. He had dreams, he had plans. Like every father, I too wanted to see his future.
But God wrote a different fate for him. He became one of the heroes who gave their lives for the homeland. For a father, seeing his child grow up is a great happiness. But burying him is an indescribable trial. That day, it was as if time stopped. There were people around me, but I couldn't hear anything. Only my son's face was before my eyes.'
The father of the martyr, expressing that he still gets emotional when entering his son's room despite the passing years and that he still cannot touch some of his belongings, said with these words: 'There are his memories at home. Sometimes I pick up one of his belongings, I look at it for a long time. Because some things cease to be objects for a person. They turn into memories. And those memories become a person's most precious trust. Longing is hard. But longing for a child is much harder.
Because nothing fills his place. Holidays come, festivals come, special days come. While everyone is happy with their family, you feel the missing side even more. When I go to his grave, sometimes I don't want to leave for a long time. A person cannot get enough of his son. While praying at the head of the grave, I both grieve and feel proud. Because I know that he attained the rank of martyrdom.'
HE IS NOW THE CHILD OF THE NATION Mustafa Kırıkçı, saying it is not possible to describe the feeling Father's Day leaves in him with a single word, expressed that today means both tears and a dignified stance: 'One side of me cries, one side feels proud. Because I am both a father who lost his child and a father of a martyr. These two feelings have lived together in my heart for years.
Of course, I wish my son were with me today. That we sit together, chat. But fate was such. God honored him with a lofty rank like martyrdom. I have submitted to this. I am proud of my child. When his name is mentioned, my heart aches but my head also stands tall. Because you fulfilled your duty to your homeland in the most sacred way. On Father's Day, the only gift I can give to my child is my prayer.
May God make his place paradise. God willing, we will meet again one day. Until that day, I will continue to remember my child with longing, love, and pride. The longing never lessens. But the honor he left behind also never lessens. We miss him, we keep him alive in our prayers. He is not just our child, he became one of the heroic children of this nation.'
A LETTER TO THE CHILD 'My dear son Bayram...
I no longer want to count the number of years that have passed without you. Because each passing year makes the longing for you a little greater. You were the joy of our home. Now your absence has become the greatest silence in our home. On Father's Day, everyone receives gifts from their children, hears kind words. My greatest gift is your memory. My greatest consolation is your rank of martyrdom. I know that you gave your life so that this flag would not fall.
I am proud of you, my son. I miss you very much. Sometimes I close my eyes and think of your childhood. Sometimes I look at your last photograph in your military uniform. Sometimes I just pray silently. Because that's the only thing I can do.'
I AM PROUD OF HIS MARTYRDOM Although Father's Day is a symbol of happiness and time spent together for many families, for martyr families it is also one of the days when a deep longing, unceasing yearning, and indescribable pain are felt anew.
Can Polat Usta, who lost his son as a martyr during an operation in Syria's Afrin region on January 23, 2018, also recounted with tears the longing he feels for his child on this special day.
Can Polat Usta, the father of Martyr First Lieutenant Oğuz Kağan Usta, stating that the pain of losing a child remains as fresh as the first day despite the years that have passed, and saying that he feels his son's absence more deeply every Father's Day, said, 'Every Father's Day, a void grows inside me but I am proud of my son's martyrdom.'
Usta, who told of his son growing up with love for the homeland from a young age, expressed that martyrdom is a great rank but nothing can fill the void in a father's heart. The father of the martyr also recounted what passes through his heart addressing his son with emotional expressions: 'My dear martyr Oğuz Kağan... Today, I am spending another Father's Day without you.
You sacrificed your life without hesitation for the unity of our nation and our homeland. No matter how proud I am of you, it is not enough. I wish I could hear your voice once more, hug you once more. But I know that you gave your most precious trust for the independence of these lands. Your memory continues to live in our hearts.'
Can Polat Usta, stating he cannot forget the day the martyr news came, said that moment will never be erased from his memory for the rest of his life. I WAIT, THINKING THE DOOR WILL OPEN AND BAYRAM WILL COME IN Longing does not cease in some hearts even as years pass. When Father's Day comes, while many fathers hold their children's hands, some fathers ease their yearning by embracing a headstone.
İzzet Kavcı, the father of Bayram Kavcı who fell as a martyr in Şırnak on August 10, -2016, is also one of those who carry the pain of losing a child in their heart. Father Kavcı, saying he has not gotten used to his son's absence despite the years that have passed, explained that every Father's Day means both pride and sorrow for him: 'When Father's Day is mentioned, everyone thinks of the beautiful moments spent with their child.
What comes to my mind is my son's scent, voice, laughter. For years, I have been going to his grave, but I still think to myself, 'The door will open and Bayram will come in.' A father never gives up waiting for his child. The pain of losing a child is not something to be described. May God not show it to anyone. They say a person gets used to everything with time, but one does not get used to the longing for a child. Every morning I wake up with him, every night I go to bed with him.
I look at his photograph, I think of his memories. It feels as if we parted just yesterday.'
The father of the martyr, stating that his son's love for the homeland was at the center of his life from a young age, and saying he remembers the day he received the martyr news as if it were yesterday, said, 'That day, my life split in two. On one side are the days with Bayram, on the other side are the years passed without him. When that news came, my world darkened.
It turned out to be the greatest trial a father could experience. But when I learned my son was martyred for his homeland, there was also pride among my tears. Bayram would always talk to me about love for the homeland. He would perform his duty with great passion. Now I think, he gave his life so that we could live comfortably on these lands. If we can sit in peace today, Bayram and other brave men like him have a share in that.'
DOES A FATHER'S LOVE FOR HIS CHILD EVER END! İzzet Kavcı, expressing that Father's Day passes bittersweetly for him, told that he relives the same longing every year. Kavcı, noting that he misses his child saying 'father', said, 'Today, everyone waits for a phone call from their child, waits for a message. I, however, go to my son's grave and pray. A person wants to hear his voice just once. Wants to hear him say 'Father' one more time.
But fate did not grant us this. When I go to the head of his grave, sometimes I talk for hours. I tell him whatever is in my heart. I feel as if he hears me. Because a father's love for his child does not end with death. Even if he goes under the soil, it continues to live in a person's heart. My pain is very great, but my pride is also great. I am a father of a martyr. My son gave his life for the homeland.
Every father is proud of his child, but I feel a separate pride for Bayram. Because he sacrificed his most precious possession for this nation.'
The grieving father, saying his child was a great hero, said, 'Bayram's friends come, they talk about him. His commanders come, they tell what kind of person he was. Every kind word I hear sprinkles water on my heart.
I say, so my son left a beautiful mark behind.'
Kavcı, expressing that the longing has not lessened over the years but rather grown, and saying that martyr families understand each other best, said, 'When a person buries his child, a wound that will not close opens inside. That wound seems to scab over but never heals. Especially on days like these, it bleeds anew.
I think of Bayram's childhood, I think of his youth. I think of the days we spent together. Then I turn and look at the headstone. That's when a person's heart breaks. Every Father's Day, the same sentence passes through my mind; I wish he could come to my side even for a day. That I could hug him one more time. That I could see his face one more time. But I know that he is now in the loftiest rank after prophethood.
This thought gives me patience.'
THE LONGING WILL NEVER END Kavcı, noting that the longing for his child will never end, concluded his words as follows: 'The longing never ended, and it never will. A father cannot forget his child. My hair has turned white, years have passed, but in my eyes you are still a young man leaving home for duty. I never gave up waiting for him.
Let everyone know this; martyr families carry the pain of losing their children for a lifetime. But they also carry the honor of knowing that they gave their lives for this homeland. In my heart, there is both an indescribable pain and an indescribable pride. Bayram was my child, now he is the child of the whole nation. May God have mercy on all our martyrs. May my son's place be paradise. We miss them every day, we remember them every day.
But we know that they went so that the homeland may live. May God grant us to protect their trust.'