Remembering my favorite home

This. 

This is how I feel every time I think of Turkey. 

The place I lived is still there. 

But it doesn't exist as I remember it. 

Families are no longer allowed to live there. 

And the families that were my family are gone. 

This place will always hold memories too big for me to put into words. 

I often want it back. 

The simple life of parks on every corner, 

walking everywhere, 

all Christians attending the same church, 

and community stronger than you can ever imagine.

A grocery store with only the essentials. 

Stores I could let my children run freely in. 

Kisses from strangers.

And the beautiful Turkish people that I loved so dearly. 

But it's gone ... 

and I think of it often with tears in my eyes.