Between life and death lies love

Published: September 24, 2022 / Updated: September 24, 2022 Vilma Life in Europe: Back Home

I don’t think I have ever before thought that I had been at the right place at the right time at the exact moment of being there.

But two weeks ago I was fully aware of it. I was the right person to be exactly where I was. At that exact moment in time.

It was the last Sunday of the summer. We were on the way to the park near our home. There was a playground there (my daughter loved it) and there were a couple of ponds with ducks there (I loved those). We had bread handy for the ducks and were enjoying the beautiful morning walk.

As we were approaching one of the benches, we saw a young woman walking towards us. However, the second I laid my eyes on her, I realised she was crying. It wasn’t just a few tears running down her cheeks. She was weeping, howling and whimpering all at once. She was holding on to her chest and holding on to her belly. And she did not stop. She almost collapsed on the steps near the bench, just as we were approaching it.

‘I can’t just watch her and do nothing’, – I thought to myself.

I don’t remember what I asked her. I hope it wasn’t something ridiculous, like ‘Are you ok?’, when she obviously wasn’t. But I did say something to her. And she replied with the remark: ‘Take care of your families and of your children’.

Something was terribly wrong.

So I just took her in my arms and let her weep.

‘My husband killed himself last night’ – she said after a while. She nearly collapsed again. ‘And I have a two year old son’.

Life is so cruel sometimes. But almost 3.5 years later I felt strong and confident enough to share my story, trying to comfort her and calm her down. I held her close for as long as she let me, and I kept caressing her long hair and patting her back, repeating: ‘It’s ok, I know’.

I did know. I had been there. It took a lot of time for me to pull myself back together, it will take her a lot of time as well.

I motioned my head to my daughter: ‘Look, here she is, after 3.5 years.’ The woman looked at my girl. ‘You will be there for your son and you will be strong for him’.

I’d like to think I helped her some. And I’d like to know how she is today. But there, by the pond, we talked about moments, fights, and not getting a goodbye.

I think of Beno so often. I revisit the places, the conversations, the feelings. Everything that I felt immediately after his loss has mellowed, moved to the background.

I’m left with the immense feeling of overflowing love towards the little girl we created. The one who is my life and my biggest love.

That crazy crazy world

Published: September 9, 2022 / Updated: September 9, 2022 Vilma Life in Europe: Back Home

‘We are in prison’.

No kidding. I never thought I’d see a message like that from my sister. My sister! Who is a well behaved, intelligent lady, way less attracted to risky activities than I am.

‘You are?’, – I texted back incredulously. I wondered what on earth could a family of 5 do, to end up in prison. I did not come up with one feasible explanation.

‘Yes, the tour is about to start’, – she came back to me minutes (longest, full of tension) later.

Phew! On one hand, I was so incredibly relieved. On the other hand, just wondering, what COULD a family of 5 do to get locked up?

As you see, that was quite the start of the week.

‘She was 3, and she was pregnant’.

That was Karla, my seriously good friend, currently touring Europe with her son, a.k.a. Mia’s Mexican boyfriend.

‘I had the weirdest dream. Your daughter was pregnant’, – she went on, as if I had not heard her the first time.

Now that unsettled me. I found it…. creepy, ew, to say the least! I know we can’t control what we dream about, but, Karla, can we at least try, eh?

At the end, I did not want to hear more, and, luckily, my friend did not elaborate too much.

Truly bizarre.

‘I want to live in a tree’.

That, of course, was from the lips of my little angel.

Say what now?

‘Do you want to live with me? In a tree?’, – she persisted.

Then, naturally, I had to ask: ‘Which tree?’

‘That one!’ – she pointed to the one from the balcony. ‘Or that one’, – she pointed to another one and looked at me with the biggest smile. She obviously had it all figured out.

‘Maybe’, – that was me being diplomatic.

‘Mommy, why do you have to go to work every day?’ – my daughter suddenly changed her tone, became all serious.

‘Well, my love’, – I started explaining, – ‘I need to work so we can buy food and pay rent for this beautiful place’.

‘But if we lived in a tree, we wouldn’t need money to pay rent’, – she delivered her closing statement.

And she was so right.