Homesick

My daddy (what? I'm a Southern woman) just emailed photos from his trip to Turkey. He's there for the next week visiting our family friends. The photos include his third wife holding the hands of the woman I'm named for. I don't have anything against this woman, but it breaks my heart that it's not my mother. Not that I want my mommy to still be married to that man, as I can't imagine anything more awful for either one of them, but that Mommy would love to see Turkanhanim and Nuranhanim again.
And my heart breaks for me, since I'm the only one other than my mommy who hasn't been back yet.
I had a conversation today about choices and blame. I know that I've made choices and they've kept me from going to Turkey, but sometimes, just sometimes, I let myself wallow in the "unfairness" of it all.
I *will* go back to Turkey one day. I will.