BLUE DAYS

- BLUE DAYS



Love is the blue days that bless our lives. The sweet drips of happiness is a strong love
Love and Respect.
Love, dignity and fortitude.
Always call me Princess, I even sweet smell or the first flower of spring
like those flowers that hold for the first time in your hand and look in awe and amazed eyes. Now the garden of my heart was empty without roses, jasmine, lilies and kisses.
The absence of your for me, an empty new day
At your feet with lulls in the world all the fairy tales, with that song, which talked about the little yellow fairy mountain encountered small children and gave them a cheek kiss love magic and when the warm embrace your hearts esmigan near fire, the old calloused hands caressed my hair long
With painful memories as the old smiles when our life, opens up like a beautiful flower.
My favorite Grandma

Years worked in the fields to toil tirelessly with fortitude and patience.
Tired hands were always filled with walnuts, almonds, egg, with a thousand kinds of things that the village was actually dealing in the neighborhood.
White snowflakes in her hair even in the summer gave her abundant grace
I never cried in her name. I always say my _HEART_ I remember the stories they told me to Izmir
Greeks and Turks ... .. a home And when was the great fire destroyed all done, all were slaughtered, everything was uprooting.
I remember telling the story I remember not to keep days and years.
A sprig was still burning but the names of her mind, Kemal Army .... Venizelos ... ... ... ... ... ... but all to blame ... .. cloud refugees who arrived naked and neighbors found enemies in fear of getting the land, their jobs their lives. He remembered the hands of people who desperately stretched and hands of the mothers who kept their dead children seemed to be lost and sometimes staring motionless oloisa a vacant eye You thought that it was there that something bad was happening
She spoke softly ... uprooting, long and muddy road all stayed there ... everything !!!!!
And after saying names among them a Turkish.
One time I asked her what the name Khalil looked at me puzzled as if she was sure that I knew but then she said Halil the guardian angel of the family the teacher half Greek, half Muslim slaughtered along with all our family ... ... ..

On the festive days always put the good of soap that smells delicious and lavender.
Always remember to knead bread smells delicious in the whole house and Christmas was making the the bread of Christ
The bread with the cross in the middle, decorated a unique and whole nut in the middle of the shell.
The night before I recount as they put on the table was strewn with the white embroidered tablecloth and nailed in the middle of an olive branch. The branch passed figs, apples, oranges ... a sign of joy and happiness
So every time when distributing guarding a large piece wrapped in a white towel and gave me with a sweet kiss.
Always standing proud and value in front of people advised Kind and equally looking at the beggar and the King ... and never underestimates no one is above the below and when you will be proud to walk with them always smiling

Once we went into town. A new city a new generation, a new world and we are lost in large arteries, the crowd walked to chatting to laugh. Thousands steps around our roads paved with asphalt, and people who know and care about us as we do for them. Buildings, concrete plazas sick weak trees a few meters square, a busy city, unrecognizable, alien!
When I was 6 years old and always go to trees with olives
Here the sun never failed to embrace these things trees. Both thick and many were
Our tree was not an ordinary tree, but a true nest
An old huge old olive tree that exceeded our old house in height.
There I took Grandma and simple clean apron.
Opened the bag that was edible, and placed them carefully on it.
This tree was the refuge of our second home.
The say-nest of birds - and that's why stretched up vertically horizontally diagonally as far away as the branches seemed to be embraced by other trees tied up like a big huge nest in there were chicks from all birds seemed

Sunday. The sky darkens and takes on a sweet version with calms your own sweet form
How many stars would count, and what shines most and distinguished companion book .... ... Your own words ... when to ask for love
Ah! My heart, my sweet grandmother, even now I get rid of any thoughts sad. Another day in and I'm looking answers for those that do not have time to ask and remained forever in silence
In a small drawer I have hidden all your gifts, souvenirs and expensive keep
with reverence, and when the moon with longing with joy I remember the celebrations in our old house where the guests are not here anymore are gone.
A rose white stain that has graced my hair a tiny girl, May Day, when a state like the precious treasure of your arms.
I remember one day, how much affection he bent beside me and I got it in hand and .. all the happiness, all your dreams ... all in a chaste embrace of love.
Yesterday evening I returned home empty handed!
I look at the table sad and I remember when we gather the whole family happy under the protection of God to eat in an atmosphere of love and devotion.
First prayer my child cry do prayer .......
Things so far away but so important to me

And when you left a hole goodbye that day.
I opened all the windows in the color of midday. A star deceived by my tears and fell to the fence next to a tree planted along the lemon tree that bloomed this year for the first time and filled with flowers filled with hope filled me with memories and sweet kisses.
The earth is resting in great silence, and my heart - it is only there, all alone!

From deep thoughts took my grandfather who was dressed, he wore the new suit and with his big beautiful eyes looked at me
-Come my child will be late
My grandfather, the great grandfather of mine who did everything right and he struggled for years since he was felled from Izmir, he struggled in two souls and two seasons. In the field he found all day and when came the time of sowing season of plowing always he made his cross always said words of the church is always praying. Lord have mercy on me ... ... ... .... Then this is the fruit of the field fertile for all of us, strangers made the cross he wore his hat and then with hard work and toil with soul and power of the sow sailed.
Listen asked, give advice and always wanted to help people always a good reason

I leave my suitcase in the yard where they had spread the fog. I think it came from above and as it tilted in our old house lofty thought that poor grandmother was here hidden behind the curtain embroidered in old oil lamp that illuminated and put out gently and we greeted
I had forgotten the window of her room glowing in this dense mist that continually stretched!

In this house lived my whole life and now I go away.

Come-Do not stand me crying again Grandfather

Always dreams save me So I leave with a heart pure grandmother will always pray for you will always owe a big hug and endless will not forget what you gave without expecting to get a sufficient return you smile and a sweet kiss