From My Sister, on April 9th

Whatever I wanted to blog about today pales in comparison to the most thoughtful letter I got from my sis. 
Love you, A., forever and ever ... 

From my sister on my birthday:

I wanted to write a blog for my sister’s birthday since for the past year she wrote one blog for every person in our family’s birthday and I figure it’s not fair to have wonderful blog posts with such kind and heartwarming thoughts for every person and not for her in our family. I don’t know if I have the same skills as she has in blogging, especially in English, but I’ll try my best. 

Ever since I can remember, she was there. Now, you know your first memories, fuzzy and all unclear, coming back in bits and pieces, in emotions and smells. I’ve never been able to clearly dissociate in my mind which person appeared in my very first memory, my mother, my father, my grandmother, my grandfather, our nanny or even my grand-grandmother as they were all there in my first years taking care of us. But I guess it was her as she was always there, in all those bits of images and pictures scattered in my memory. 

I used to see her like kind of me, a child, but so much older and wiser! Somebody that I can look up to, I can follow, I can copy! Sometimes too bossy and annoying, sometimes so loving and caring, but so comforting that she was there.

I remember her curly thick black hair that everybody admired and I was so jealous of, her white skin and red cheeks, I used to see her like Snow White! Because she was the one telling me stories, introducing me to Snow White, Red Riding Hood or Cinderella. 

I remember that moment, many years later in my teenage years when we were all alone in a summer student seaside camp and stayed up on the beach to see the sunrise over the Black Sea and, like in childhood, she began to tell me princess stories. I have my life moments that I like to cherish forever and like to encapsulate in a magic box and that particular one is definitely one of them. I remember that sense of peace, of perfection of being loved and cared for. I was the little sister away from home and needing comforting. No one can tell stories like she can! Two years ago we watched again together the sunrise over the Atlantic Ocean, we always chase that special moment, I guess, that we shared so many years before and I hope we can chase many more from now on. 

She taught me how to write and read. She always took her role as a big sister very seriously. I didn’t dare not listen. And still she was the first one I could exercise my rebellious nature with. Was much easier than with adults, haha.

I remember how I envied her good grades, her work ethic, her perseverance. Despite her challenges, her health that was never perfect, she was brave and she worked twice as hard as others. That’s maybe why she expects much of others too. I remember feeling lucky that I was not the one inheriting the highest cholesterol in the family and condemned forever not to be able to enjoy life to the fullest, but at the same time I felt guilty. But also I felt in awe about all her accomplishments and how she approached this terrible, condemning and limiting disease. She taught me how to approach pain, suffering, life in general, with that stubbornness and courage.

She was born to be the big sister, the leader. The one with her head on her shoulders and feet firmly on the ground, the practical one, able to repair a car if she puts her mind to it, the one with answers to every question and solution to every problem. I was not always listening but I found myself later forced to recognize she was right all along.

I remember the good times, family vacations, discovering life together, reading philosophy till late at night, debating Cioran and Eliade, doing homework side by side, discovering The Doors or Led Zep, crying at Schindler’s List, going up the mountains and walking the beaches, visiting Europe and later US and Canada together.

Realizing together the greatness of life, the beauty of this Earth, sharing our passion for travelling and nature. Making plans together, waiting for life to happen.

Remembering falling asleep with Dolly, our cat, between the two of us, purring. The mornings I woke up early and she would sleep till later. The week-end morning coffees on the balcony, lazy vacation days painting our toe nails and watching MTV UK. We were different and so completing each other. Her constant chatter about everything and everybody, me listening. How I missed all that when she left the country.

In my final French exam in high school they asked me to talk about a person or a personality that I most admire. Could be Ghandi, Einstein, Jeanne d’Arc, a family member or a rock star. I talked about my sister.  I could just not think about someone else I admire more. I was in awe at 3 years old when I opened my eyes to the world, still in awe at 18, although sometimes in our teenage years we threw ourselves in terrible fights. We just knew we loved each other so much, no matter what.

Then we parted ways. She left Romania at 22. She was so brave and so daring, she chased her dreams, even though frightening. First time in my life I could feel true anxiety for I felt like a part of myself was all alone wandering in another part of the world. She was this this small fragile looking young girl, trying to build a life in a strange land, away from everybody and everything she knew until then. But if anyone can make it out there in the wild world, than this would be my strong willed, good sense, courageous sister.

And I started to miss her so much. She used to write long e-mails that I would print and read to our relatives. My grandma was always crying while I read and I felt sometimes I was grasping for air. We wished we were there with her, I’m sure she went through rough times, terrible loneliness, health problems and we were so far away.

Life was kinder at some point and she met her wonderful husband, I moved to Canada so we were a little bit closed, I had my 2 sons and discovered an incredibly loving and caring auntie in her!

And then she had the heart surgery, I remember I could not even speak or think clearly in the days before the surgery without feeling like it’s not enough air to breathe. That fear, the impossible thoughts. And still I was confident that she will fight this like she fought all her battles in her life. She fought tooth and nail since she was little, fiercely, the odds, the disease, the genetics, anyone and anything. And sure enough she made it through and she continues the fight, day after day.

That’s probably one of the most important lessons I learned from her, to fight and to be brave, to take full advantage of the good things.  

I have been starting this blog, although I don’t have a blog, a while ago beginning, of March or so. In another time, another world it seems. The world now on April 8 is so much different than the world on March 6, at least my world, my reality, my day to day as probably is for pretty much everyone else. Now we’re in the middle of a pandemic.

I was thinking though that my sister somehow, again, prepared me for these terrible times . Not only that she always was a germophobe and always trying to make me aware that I should be careful in the airports, in the airplanes, in hotels, pretty much everywhere and stop touching everything (hey I’m the little sis, I still need to touch everything!). Not only that I need to always plan for worst but hope for the better, but probably the most important lesson was not to ever take the life and the health for granted. It is so precious, so fragile. Not to forget to stop and appreciate the sunbeam in the morning, the cat purring, the crisp air of the mountains, the bird singing and the sunrise over the sea. Not to forget to be there for our loved ones. Year after year, even though she is far away, even when she had heart surgery, she sends handwritten cards, she sends gifts to the whole family, to friends. Never missed one Christmas, never missed one Easter, never missed one birthday, never missed one March 8 or St Patrick lately, never missed one anniversary. Because yes, that’s important! Life is important, celebrating and cherishing it is so important, so precious. You actually can enjoy this precious gift one day and lose it tomorrow, so fast.

So thank you sis for all the great lessons you taught me ever since I can’t remember!

I love you so much and hope you’ll have a wonderful birthday!

O parte din noi ...

"Doar o matusa poate sa te imbratiseze ca o mama, sa pastreze un secret ca o sora, si sa iti daruiasca dragoste ca un prieten adevarat ..."

Nu mi-aduc aminte de vreo perioada in viata familiei noastre cand matusa mea, Rodi, nu a facut parte din ea. De la botezuri, la nunti, la mormantari, si pana la zile importante din viata noastra ca absolvirea liceului sau a facultatii – a fost mereu langa noi. Viata ei si a familiei noastre au fost mereu impletite in acelasi univers intim.  

O prezenta constanta, e prima care se gandeste la un cadou de ziua ta, de Ziua Femeii, de Craciun, de “Iepuras”, de … chestie. E prima care sa se gandeasca sau sa intrebe daca ai nevoie de bani, sau de alt fel de ajutor -  financiar, moral, umanitar, de orice fel. Daca nu se anunta ca si voluntar ea insasi, coordineaza ajutor din multele resurse pe care numai ea le cunoaste. E cea mai concreta si stabila sursa de ajutor, de empatie si de calm pe care o avem in familie. Constanta si consecventa ei sunt neschimbate de cand o stiu, si banuiesc ca si inainte …   

Iubitoare de frumos, ne-a invatat importanta proverbului “haina face pe om”. De o eleganta fizica impecabila, ne-a binecuvantat cu multe daruri peste ani, pe care le pretuim si acum si le vom pretui mereu: arta, bijuterii, obiecte rare si cu semnificatie sentimentala pentru familia noastra.

Desi pastrez toate darurile pe care le-a impartasit peste ani, materiale si mai putin materiale, cu drag si pretuire, cel mai frumos dar pe care mi l-a facut a fost poate excursia in Turcia pe care mi-a daruit-o la absolvirea facultatii si in care am mers impreuna. Desi am vazut multe tari de atunci, aceasta excursie ramane totusi in sulfet pentru mine cea mai frumoasa surpriza si Turcia ramane pana azi cel mai frumos taram din cate mi-a fost dat sa vad. Si experienta aceasta unica nu s-ar fi intamplat fara imaginatia si daruirea ei.

Una din cele mai frumoase experiente si amintiri cu Rodi - la cumparaturi in magazine de bijuterii (in Turcia, 1997)

In Troia, Turcia, 1997

 Am mostenit de la ea, cred, dragostea de calatorii si acea excursie a deschis usa multor calatorii in lume de mai apoi. Asa cum multi care calatoresc cu parintii sau rudele apropiate stiu, e o relatie intima si sacra care se formeaza sau se intareste in apropierea unei astfel de drumetii. Cand imi e dor mai mult de ea, ma gandesc la excursia noastra in Turcia si ma simt mai putin singura si mai mult intarita de puterea  apropierii dintre noi

Azi implineste o varsta frumoasa, rotunda, si asa cum face orice in viata ei, o intampina cu gratie si clasa.

La multi ani, scumpa noastra! Multa sanitate si multi, multi ani de bucurii, putere si calatorii inainte. Si sa ne bucuri multa vreme cu prezenta ta calma, de serenitate si dragoste nesfarsita si neconditionata. Te iubim!

To My Love, with All My Heart ...

He’s patient and kind.

He makes me laugh the loudest (sorry, dad!) and he dries away my tears so often …

He wraps my wounds and heals me …

He writes, he draws, he plays music, he cooks, he cleans, he makes pictures and woodworking …

He loves to drive and eat … A lot.

He loves ice-cream, squirrels, birds, kitties, and pups, and he loves me – but I am not sure where in this hierarchy I fall. It doesn’t matter – I am honored to be in the hierarchy at all …

He is as tough as nails and as soft as jell-o ... 

He can take more than anyone I know and he has the most tender heart ... 

To most people, he is the most serious man alive, and to me – he is the biggest joker there ever was …

We talk about computers, “brilliant code”, English, foreign languages, geography, politics, books, where our next adventure will be, our day-to-day boring lives, picture-taking, decorating, building homes … and the list can go on forever …

He’s my best friend, the human that I spend the most time with, the first thought I have in the morning, the last one as I slip into the night …

I am still in awe that two humans who grew up so differently, in such remote corners of the planet could finally meet and click so much. That two such humans can be so alike in the same weird ways …

I am humbled every day that he shares his life with me.

I never believed in the meaning of ‘forever’ till I met him … He fills my heart, my senses, my every day …

If there is one thing I hate about this man is that I did not meet him sooner ... 

There is no amount of words that I can string together to tell you more about him. None of them would do him justice …

I put this video together to celebrate his craziness and quirks, his sweetness and sass, and to amuse him and all who know him. I hope this worked.

I love you, babe! Today more than always before…

To My Brother-In-Law

My brother-in-law came into our family some 24 years ago or so … He was 17 at the time. He has grown up with us, and we have gotten older with him. To say that he feels more like a blood relative than an in-law is an understatement.

Although we’ve had our differences, we’ve made so many beautiful memories together – beach trips, parties, weddings, and baptisms, family visits – a lifetime. Today, on his birthday, these memories are all coming back. They make me smile, they make me laugh out loud, and sometimes make me shake my head and grin, too ... 

The memories that are the dearest to me are those where I felt like, despite any difference of opinion (what would families be without those, eh?!), we have all let our guard down and we embraced each other as true relatives, branches on the same family tree. Those are the moments when I know he’s gotten our back and I hope he knows we’ve got his - no matter what …

There were beach trips in Romania where I watched the love between him and my sister bud and grow; there were nights in clubs as we were all experiencing our younger years – he is has always been a good companion for any kind of fun-having activity. Then, there were the Canada – US years where I watched him and my sister become parents and grow into wonderful, well-rounded adults.

His mainstay in our family has always been strong and my sister’s reliance on him constant … Their love always there, unfettered. It is an understatement to say that this family would not be the same without him. 

Happy birthday, my friend! Happy new year of life and may we make ever so many more memories going forward together. Love having you in this family! Truly.

"When he was little and I was young" - this is how far back we go: cca 1996-1997

For Kevin

Dear Kevin, 

I have known I loved you since way before you were born. Maybe even before you were even in your mami’s tummy! Way before that cold February day, when I was driving down I-15 (aka “The Interstate of Death”) from Salt Lake City in Utah when your grandma, nani, called me to tell me you had arrived. I had come to Canada about 2 weeks before that day to witness your arrival in person. But nope, you wanted no visitors, nor witnesses. You pretty much arrived, I was told, when your mami was virtually all alone in the hospital room. And to this day, you can do without an audience.

9 years later you’ve become this bundle of energy and laughter that no one saw coming. Everyone who knows you says they cannot resist you anything. You charm, you lure, you seduce, you break hearts. Already. And we all fall like flies under your spell …

Why do we love you?! Let me count the reasons, our sweet Kev-Kev: we love your brains - you are the family’s whiz in math, no matter how much you’d fight it: you’re the only one who figures out math brain twisters; we love your thirst for knowledge as you read non-stop and  you play games beyond your years; and, boy, do we love how even being the littlest of us all doesn’t faze you: you keep all of us in line: no party, no noise, no people, no presents! We love your heart – one of the most beautiful things about you: your love, care and respect of the animals and the planet. Your kindness to other kids less fortunate than you, your kindness to all creatures that cannot help themselves. I hope your dream to have a bunny and kitty farm one day will become true. I want to help with that!

My favorite memories with you are many, but I wanted to leave just one note here about one of the funniest, more memorable things you said recently. You tell us all the time you love us, and we thank you for that huge, unconditional gift. This is a recent exchange of affection between you and your mami:

Your mom: Kevin, I love you more.
You: I love YOU more than you love me more.
Your mom: That’s not possible.
You: That is very super possible, because I am a possible man. And I am a legendary weapon of love.

We can never love you back enough, sweet boy! May you always believe that anything is “very super possible”, and may you grow into a beautiful young man from the special (still) boy you are today.  

Happiest of birthdays today and I hope it involves ribs, at some point. Or soon!

“Keepers of the Light”

Try as you may, you can never predict history. You can live it, help write it, learn it, and try as hard as you can to not repeat it. Or maybe some history does beg repeating …

22 years ago last month, on January 19, 1998, I flew to America in search of a new home. I was looking for a better life, opportunities, respect for who I am and for freedom. Nowadays, I sometimes find myself asking if it was all worth it. For the most part, I got most of it. But some things are starting to look like they might turn into the bad, haunting history I left behind … But I can’t despair. I am keeping the light burning in the belief that one day America will again be that beautiful place that was once promised … bountiful, but mostly respectful for all.

Regardless of how kind or not America has been to me in the past 22 years, I always celebrate this anniversary. I celebrate that wild spirit, that courage of a single young woman to want to build a life as she wished she should live it. I usually take a trip which is my favorite present to myself for any occasion. This year the trip was to The Outer Banks of North Carolina and to Manteo. 

It was cold. It was so cold, in fact, that one day it snowed. But it was beautiful! Mountains will forever be my soul’s heaven, but the tranquility of the water is magical too. The richness it hides, the pulsating life … The sunsets are as glorious here as they are in the mountains, for very different reasons …

Mountains make me speechless. Water makes me think.

Although we drove and walked in many a cities during this trip, we found good food and great parks, my favorite spots were The Elizabethan Gardens in Manteo, and the drive all the way down to Cape Hatteras. That’s one of those journeys to “the end of the world.” For us, there was a sun dipping in the water on that end, and we felt like the world was over right then and there and for good. A sort of breathtaking desperation you feel in the pit of your chest when the sun just melts in the water. Will it ever know how to float?!  

Enjoy the picture journey of this trip by clicking the shot below. And in case you’re wondering: I would do it in a heartbeat, again, even knowing what I know now … In the end, it was mostly worth it than not …

Thoughts, Travels, Pictures of 2019

I reckon this is just as good a year as any to close out a decade. A decade of us being together. A decade of fortune, loss, sickness, birth, happiness, and sadness, too. A decade of all the things human, fortunes we don’t dare talk about out loud for fear we might jinx ourselves, and a decade of learning so much about each other, our families, our worlds that sometimes it hurts. Mostly it hurts with pleasure.

This past year had everything. Love, hatred, bounty, loss, much of that, work changes. Heck, we even saw a ghost! It continued a streak of bad news started a few years ago, but God and life have also been merciful and giving, peppering our journey with friends, loving family, love, in general, good news here and there. And as always, it gave us travels. Many beautiful trails to pick from and journeys that we’ll cherish for a lifetime. 

From the bald peaks of The Rockies, through deserts and through the dark green Smokies all the way to the emerald Atlantic and beyond, we hiked, we listened to music, we met new people and tightened the bonds with old friends, we saw family and somewhere in there we found time for work, too … But as important as work might be, this is not what we’re taking with us to our deathbed. All the other stuff is what …

This is about remembering this old year… 

…. we started out the year learning about the passing of a dear aunt of mine. She lost her battle with some rotten form of leukemia because of a stupid cold. She was always a fighter and had such a spirit! The year continued with much loss of people – not close to me, but close to people I knew. Lots of sickness, too, from people close and far from us physically and otherwise … There is just so much pain in this world …

We also learned about my mom’s cancer coming back and we stood by her side, from far and close, with bated breath, through her chemo treatments which lasted most of the year. It was not easy, to say the very least. My sister and I went together for the first time in 10 years to see her, to touch her, to learn … As hard as this was, it was also good. For us. For mom. For taking it all in and building some perspective. But this was not till May-June, so I skip ahead...

Before then, we visited Richmond, VA, met family in Chesapeake, VA, we spent a weekend tasting good foods and bonding with old and new friends in Kinston, NC in early spring. There are so many corners of magic and wonder all around us, if you only open the door to let them peek in … 

Come April, we wandered about Charleston, SC. We stayed downtown and walked pretty much everywhere. We walked the lush grounds of the Magnolia Plantation and the marshes of Sullivans Island. We ate every seafood seen on this planet and came back full of Southern history and amazing pictures. April is just a perfect month for Charleston. 

We spent probably the coldest May on record while we explored New Mexico and Colorado. We visited Taos, NM, and Denver, Colorado Springs, and Breckenridge in Colorado. We tried to drive up Pike’s Peak in Colorado Springs, which was on my bucket list since I was a teenager back in Romania with no prospects of ever seeing it. Who would have expected a thick snow storm in mid-May?! That prevented us to go past the 10,000 ft mark. We got lost in the desert in Taos, NM amazed by art, old Native culture, delicious Southwestern cuisine, and even more art … If I were to pick one trip that we took this year to do it again soon, this would definitely be it. 

Back to my trip to Romania, my sister and I also saw The Pope come to our Romanian hometown while we were there … Now, that is not something we planned for, but more of being in the right place at the right time sort of luck … The skies opened up with glorious sunshine when he started speaking, after several days of gruesome rain and hail storms … Maybe a sign of hope for us all ... 

We spent a couple of weekends in the North Carolina mountains, around Blowing Rock, Grandfather Mountain, Boone, and Banner Elk. 

We spent the summer months taking in all the foods and events around our area – Durham, Raleigh, Chapel Hill, Pittsboro. There is just so much to see and do around here … Food halls, wine, beer, and even mead festivals, rooftop bars, lots of live music, small and big ticket concerts, lots of farms. Everything … If only we had all the time to do and see it all.. 

We camped on the shores of Smith Mountain Lake in VA and rounded up our winery visits for the year in that area, too, towards the end of summer. 

We visited Highlands, NC in early fall to see what the fuss was all about in that sweet mountain town. I swear there is not one issue of Our State magazine that doesn’t mention it. It’s like a fantasy village, complete with cobblestone streets and a trickling stream that runs through it. 

We walked the streets of Greensboro, NC for two days listening to the music of The Folk Festival and sampling the local food, and again bonding with old friends … Greensboro will forever feel like my one of many homes to me … I always love going back … 

We took in the history and charm of Atlanta in October, and learned many new things at the FH Summit down there. 

We closed out the year of travel in The Bahamas. We took home memories of learning about a new culture as well as the painful memory of having lost our dear kitty while stuck on a boat somewhere in The Bermuda Triangle … We came back home to rest our tired bones and mourn our sweet boy for a while … 

Most of us, close family and friends, are still here, on the right side of the dirt. And for that, and that alone, I am immensely grateful … The rest is the cherry on top.

We have built new friendships this year, and like always let old ones drift away, as life would naturally have it in its constant shifting … We are older and probably none-the-wiser, but happy we made it to almost the end of this year and decade now … I am wishing for us all to know more beauty and less pain in the new year. More acceptance and less fright. More understanding and less hatred … I wish this to us all close by and to everyone out there … 

Happy Old Year and Happy New One, too! May you always keep an open heart! 

Click the video to view our year in the rearview mirror. Many thanks to Emily Scott Robinson for the amazing background music. When all else hurts and fails, we are forever grateful for our mobility to take in the travelling mercies … 

My Lucky-Charm Cat

Gypsy: May, 2001 - November, 2019

This is the first blog I am writing in many, many years from my home, when I am not getting sidetracked by little fuzzy paws pulling at my sleeve as I type, asking me to stop and play with them; I am not getting pitter-patter feet running across my keyboard, nor kitty faces rubbing against my laptop lid, in a tireless effort to make it close. This is because for the first time in 21 years I am in my house, completely catless.

Our last kitty, Gypsy, went away to meet his two brothers over the rainbow bridge this past week. He was 9 days short of being exactly 18 and a half years. The pain of missing him is only surpassed by our regret of not being able to be there when he passed. Life wanted it other ways … But this is not about us … It’s really about him.

Gypsy  was an answer to a long, secret wish I had as a 20 some year old. Before I moved to the Bible-belt South, I never knew such hatred towards black cats. I was amazed every fall, around Halloween, how people found black cats mutilated and strangled, and drowned in bags in the river. Humanity, or lack thereof, made me sick. Although at the time I was a happy mommy of two gorgeous cats, I said to myself: “one day, I want to have a black cat! I want to love him and raise him and turn him into the most amazing, kind, gorgeous kitty so I can show all these freaks that black cats are awesome.” No sooner did I utter this wish than in two or three-week’s time, we started hearing this piercing meow under our house, coming from the crawlspace. We had a stray cat that usually came and went, and we were thinking, OK, maybe it’s in heat and she’ll stop once it’s all over. But the meow would not stop. A day became two. A night became three, and the meow continued.

One warm late May afternoon, I opened the door to the crawlspace to let the poor creature out, weary from several sleepless nights where it had kept me awake with the incessant meow-and-meow-and-meow. I was figuring it must be a huge kitty, probably hungry from days of being trapped and dying to get out. When I opened the door, the meow kept getting closer to me, so I knew the kitty found its way to the opening. Instead of a huge kitty, to match the loud meow, I saw this tiny fuzzball, easily under a pound, covered in cobwebs, one eye half closed, I thought, or just dirty with under-the-house muck, big blue eyes, and completely black walking towards me, slipping and sliding on the rotten beams we stored in the crawlspace at the time. His voice was piercing. I had never heard such a loud meow in any size of a cat, but especially in a cat small enough to fit my palm! Since the minute we made eye contact, he did not want to lose my sight! He had the most expressive face and just begged and begged for help and comfort.

I knew I had to keep him! I was absolutely smitten, and my prayer of an all-black cat was right then and there answered. I took him to the vet who thought I wanted to put him up for adoption, having just found him under the house. I was insulted. How can someone, anyone, put this kitty up for adoption?! Just look at him: eyes blue as the skies, hungry, lonely, skinny as a rail, tiny, lonely, and all he wants is some food and love. Who can put him back out there into the world with no one to his name?! He became mine, or rather I became his the first moment we locked eyes. I asked the vet to check him out, before I would bring him to my other cats, to ensure he is not carrying some odd disease. He was not. Other than being severely dehydrated and hungry, he was 100% healthy. The doctor called him “a woolly worm” and he said: “This cat has incredibly strong lungs, and that is a sure sign that he will have a long and healthy life.”

We named him Gypsy, as my mom who was then visiting suggested “kindly”. The name fit: he was independent, dark, stubborn as they come, and with no regard to anyone’s wishes but his own. He was then and he remained for the rest of his life, the baby. Me-me-me … all the way.

As a young cat, he got himself into all sorts of troubles. He chewed more wires than any other cat I had. He chewed my shoes like a dog. He was 100% nocturnal. When the sun would go down, that’s when he was wide awake and ready to play, bite your toes, lick your face, knock pictures off the walls in your bedroom, and pull your hair. He was relentless. No matter how much he got sprayed with water, he continued his shenanigans for years. He was fearless of getting in trouble. I always joked that he knew that if I saved his life, there is nothing that I could ever do to hurt him, so he was not really ever scared of any consequences. I think he was maybe 8 or 9 when I ever noticed any sign of him slowing down and maturing just a tad … He was always playful, curious and loud. With all that said, he was also the most gentle cat you ever met: he literally had no idea how to hurt anyone, but especially humans. He trusted humans more than any other cat I knew. He never bit or scratched maliciously. Ever. He was trusting and gentle.  

People will talk about cats that want to escape and want to be outside more than they want to be inside. The number one prerequisite for being my cat is that you are going to be a 100% inside cat! No arguments! I cannot risk them being eaten by some beast, or run over by cars. Gypsy never had any interest whatsoever to ever be outside. He was completely content in the house, always in the humans’ business, especially mine. He had a nervous breakdown when I was behind any closed door – he was my shadow, constantly. He wanted to be where I was and have me in his full sight. In his old days, he would pick the most strategic point in the room so he can watch me no matter where I was headed from just one spot. His big yellow eyes (they turned from blue to yellow when he matured) would follow me around like laser beams. He loved to nap with me, and sit with me as I typed on my laptop. He slept under my desk, when I worked … His eyes were intelligent and intent in everything that had to do with me. We had a bonding like I never had with any other being. This was our life for 18 years. We read together, napped together, put up the Christmas tree together, ate lunch at the kitchen island together …

Gypsy was the only one of our cats that traveled to Utah, and then made the trip back to the North Carolina woods where he was born. He came back across the country as a 16 and a half old cat, and he did superbly during that journey: sleeping all day in his carrier in the back seat of my Corolla, and sleeping at night in our camper, when we’d camp at KOAs across The Land. He never complained. He always felt safe with us, and I hope, always loved. He was.

In the two years that we have been back in NC, he has slowed down a lot. He has outlived all the cats and dogs in our families and extended network of friends. But, life took its toll and his kidney disease advanced, and he started crying incessantly again, just like when he was a kitten. His piercing meow could wake up the dead, really! You’d never know that a creature weighing only 7 pounds (or not even one when he was a kitten) could be so loud. But that voice is what saved his life.

His big voice, bright eyes, curious nature, soft as silk coat, beautiful, picture-perfect profile will stay with us forever … He was in truth my dreamed-about, picture-perfect black cat, just like I wished all those years ago. And he did show the world that a black cat can be gentle and kind and loving and sweet, as well as mischievous and naughty ... 

I am not sure how I can now move on without any kitties in the house. I really don’t know how to function with no bowls to clean, no stop in the litter aisle at the store, no special blankets around the house … no one to snuggle with when I nap in the afternoon, no purring as I fall asleep … Gypsy was my go-to kitty for all the naps I have had in the past 18 years. Fero almost never slept! And Little Kitty was way too independent to be anyone’s cat … But Gypsy was my mirror. My soul-mate, the answer to my prayer. Just like I wanted him before he ever happened under my house, I want him now, and will want him always …

Life, of course, is never endless … He was called to the other side to maybe make other souls as happy as he’s made us.

We’ll miss you more than you know, little guy. We’ll mourn and ache for you for a long, long time, and we pray that you’ll forgive us one day for not holding your paw when you crossed that bridge. We were, and I know you knew – but just not in person. Sleep well, and wander free – enchant other worlds as you so plentifully did ours.

With a bleeding, aching heart, your momma loves you, and Mr. Aa., too …

O Mama - O Minune ...

Ce poti face in viata fara … viata?! Unii oameni ne-au dat educatie, altii fericire, dar doar mama ne-a dat viata. Multi intram in lume fara prezenta tatalui, dar mama ne este mereu alaturi de la prima rasuflare.

Mama e singura care isi sacrifica propria viata timp de 9 luni ca noi sa existam. Azi, de ziua ei, as vrea sa stau un minut sa va povestesc despre ce femeie este mama mea si de ce mi-e la fel de importanta ca si in ziua in care m-a creat. Dar, ... ce pot spune oare despre ea, decat totul?! Nici nu stiu unde sa incep …

De cand ma stiu mama ne repeta ca ne-a dorit mai mult decat orice. A dorit sa fie o mama tanara si ne-a avut de la 22 de ani. Si azi, cand implineste 66, pentru mine ramane tot tanara. Si-a dorit mereu sa ne fie prietena, si asa o percep si azi. Mama mea nu a fost niciodata pentru mine o suveranitate, o forta disciplinara, cineva de care sa imi fie frica sa nu fac boacane, ci un egal. Mereu ne-a privit ca pe egalii ei si din asta am invatat multe, dar mai ales simt de responsabilitate si fermitatea cuvantului dat. Cuvant cinstit, onest si fara ocolisuri.

Petrecem, daca suntem norocosi, mai mult timp pe pamant ca adulti decat ca si copii; si faptul ca ea m-a tratat ca un adult de la inceput m-a ajutat sa fiu mai pregatita pentru viata.

Nu imi imaginez viata mea altfel, cu altfel de mama, decat cu cea pe care mi-a dat-o bunul Dumnezeu. Desi isi exprima dragostea fata de noi prin multe gesturi, poate nu e la fel de romantica, si dragastoasa ca alte mame. Mama mea e mai cerebrala si mai serioasa. Dar pe langa dragostea care la ea vine firesc, ne-a dat o temelie mult mai puternica si mai permanenta: un exemplu de tarie, putere, cinste si dreptate, si o independenta totala sa fim cine vrem.

Mereu am stiut ca ne va apara si ne va sustine pentru ca ne e cea mai mare fana in tot ce facem. Chiar daca nu e demostrativa, ochii ei frumosi, mari, albastri, sinceri, calmi ca un lac cristalin si netulburat in lumina verii, ne asigura ca ne sustine si ne indruma tacit. Modul ei de exprimare e tacut, modest, dar ferm si consecvent. Ca si mintea ei frumoasa, e lucida, si dragostea ei consta mai mult in fermitatea convingerilor si sinceritatea indrumarii decat in efluvii sentimentale …

Poate nu e o mama care ne-a tinut de mana la fiecare pas. Dar ne-a dat drumul in viata sa mergem pe picioarele noastre si sa ne gasim modul de a merge pe cont propriu. Nu ne-a tinut de mana, dar cand am pornit-o in viata si cand ne apuca frica pentru ca ne intalneam cu ceva de speriat, ne uitam mereu in urma, si ochii ei mari, plini de incredere in noi, ne vegheau si ne incurajau la fiecare pas! Privirea aceea incurajatoare si sprijinul stabil a fost mereu, pentru mine, un far calauzitor fara de care nu as fi putut inainta…

Si efluviile sunt multe – sub aparenta solemnitate, are un suflet tumultuos, plin de pasiune. Multe exemple de peste ani isi spun cuvantul aici: dragostea nemarginita pentru noi doua si pentru tata si in genere pentru familia din jurul ei; dragostea pentru soare, mare, muzica buna, dans; dragostea pentru flori, mai cu seama lacramioare si crizanteme; dragostea pentru copiii care o fac sa zambeasca; dragostea pentru experiente noi, ca mancaruri noi cand calatoreste; curiozitatea pentru tot ce e “nou”; lipsa de frica pentru tot ce este misterios si unic: mi-aduc aminte ca am mers cu ea la o gradina zoologica acuma vreo 15 ani, poate mai bine si a lasat un dresor de serpi sa ii agate un sarpe viu de gat. Zambind, fara sa clipeasca si plina de viata mi-a spus sa ma grabesc sa fac o poza, cu aceeasi prezenta de spirit si calm ca in oricare alt minut. 

Pasiunea ei se arata si in fapte care spun mult mai mult decat vorbele. Sfaturile sale sunt mereu masurate cu bun simt si o minte lucida si fara subiectivitate. Gesturile ei sunt discrete dar inechivoce.

E inzestrata cu un perfectionism singular, in care tot ce isi propune devine standard de calitate. A avut o cariera de invidiat; mi-aduc aminte ca si cand era aproape de pensionare mai mergea inca la cursuri de specializare sa invete tehnologii noi, ca sa poata instala aparate performante la laboratorul spitalului unde lucra de 30+ de ani. Mereu in cautarea a ceea ce e mai bun, pentru a face viata altora mai usoara. Multi ani a facut goblene pe care nu le distingi de picturi; rabdarea si ochiul inclinat pentru orice detaliu au ajutat-o sa produca cred ca aproape de 100 de tablouri care vor clati retina multor generatii de acum inainte. Acestea sunt doar doua exemple dar as putea da inca multe altele in care tot ce isi propune sa faca devine un standard de perfectiune…

Am invatat atat de multe de la ea, ca nu ma pot limita doar la cateva exemple: mi-ar trebui o carte sa scriu totul despre ea, si poate cartea va veni intr-o buna zi. Dar daca ar trebui sa ma limitez doar la un exemplu pentru care e deosebita, as spune ca este cea mai puternica fiinta din cate am cunoscut vreodata. 

Dificultatile din viata ei au fost multe, si au venit nu numai de la oamenii de care a fost inconjurata, dar si de la accidente si boli pe care nu le-a putut preveni. Ea m-a invatat sa imi placa cicatricile pentru ca mereu ele sunt o marturie clara a maturitatii, intelepciunii si vitejiei noastre. Cicatricile sale sunt multe si sunt vizibile, iar daca o stii intim sunt si invizibile - cele pe care le poarta doar in suflet. Prin toate luptele pe care le-a dat a iesit mereu victorioasa, cu gropite in obraz, si ochi senini, mai puternica, mai tare, mai pregatita pentru urmatorul val! Incerc in fiecare zi sa ma hranesc din exemplul ei si sa intampin fiecare obstacol cu taria si seninatatea ei … 

Oricat de mult am incerca sa fim altfel, cred ca in cele din urma devenim mamele noastre. Daca as deveni macar jumate din mama mea, as spune ca am avut o viata implinita.

Acum, cand zilele sunt uneori mai intunecate, dar mai ales azi in zi de celebrare a vietii tale implinite, tot ce imi doresc este sa te imbratisez, sa iti spun ca te iubesc si ca totul va fi bine, pana la urma. Astazi as vrea sa privesti impreuna cu mine in urma, la toate aceste realizari, aventuri, momente si sa le cinstesti cum se cuvine pentru ca ai de ce ...

La multi ani, mama! Sa ne traiesti multi, multi ani buni si sanatosi! Asteptam cu nerabdare sa ne revedem ca sa ne cladim amintiri noi, cu noi calatorii si aventuri. Nu ne putem imagina viata care ne-a mai ramas fara privirea ta urmarindu-ne la fiecare pas, in fiecare email zilnic, de la distanta si de aproape. Te iubim si iti datoram … totul! Sa ne traiesti!

2001 - Myrtle Beach, Carolina de Sud
(e viu, nu e de jucarie!)

A Gorgeous, Restless Summer

I cannot believe it's September and my mums have bloomed already. Some blooms are actually already dried out. 

Where has the summer gone?! I don't know whether it's because we are getting visibly older and they say time just slips from under you when that happens, or what ... but this whole year's been nothing but a dream ... Here and gone before you knew what's what ... 

This summer's been busy beyond words with all its summery events and long, languid days of dolce far niente - if that can be ever busy ... 

We visited the cool mountains, hiked alongside fast springs and calm, deep, cold lakes; we drove on steep, twisty green roads, framed by roadside waterfalls and rhododendron-covered cliffs; we sipped sweet (or dry, but mostly sweet) Southern wine right from the wineries; we made some smoke in the back yard cooking meats, or in the woods while camping; we scouted numerous farmers' markets in search for just the perfect fruit and tomatoes. 

We listened to live music in the toasty evenings, and marveled at the gorgeous sunsets at the end of hot days. Have you noticed how sunsets are more colorful because the days themselves are literally burning in the summer?!  We chased butterflies and breathtaking rainbows after hot summer showers... 

We are lucky to be here, to be mobile, to be healthy, to have the energy and mind and willingness to explore and learn another thing about our town, our state, ourselves, to have each other and to live another day to tell the tale ... And all this with almost no vacation days. Just weekends and national holidays. Time is always here for us to fill up, and for that, I am so grateful! 

Here's to a long and hopefully gentle fall, and to more summers to come ... 

Some of the sights of this summer: 

Sunset on Smith Mountain Lake, VA

Camp fire on Smith Mountain Lake, VA

Chasing dragon flies in Natahala National Forest, in Highlands, NC

Sitting by Mill Creek in Highlands, NC

The dam and rhododendron at Cliffside Lake in Natahala National Forest, NC

Grilling in the back yard

Listening to Booker T at the NC folk festival in Greensboro, NC

Chasing birds at Duke Gardens, in Durham, NC

Chasing butterflies ... everywhere ... 

Relaxing on the patio of our neighborhood bar after a hot day

Chasing rainbows on Haw River - Pittsboro, NC

Sunset in Hickory, NC 

The view atop Grandfather Mountain, in NC

Out of all the wineries we visited this summer, this was our favorite: Grandfather Vineyards outside Blowing Rock, NC

Who Is She?!

“Cu mainile mele am prins soarele

Si mi-am sadit caldura lui in inima.

Poate de aici am invatat sa iubesc.”

--

“With my hands I held on to the sun

And seeded its warmth in my heart.

Maybe this is how I learned to love.” (my sister)

She smiles. A lot. She talks. Even more. She is constantly moving, walking, cooking, turning on some radio that plays classical music, another appliance, another device … She remembers she has not taken her pills for the day, while she yells at the kids to get ready for their play-dates. She realizes her hair needs a touch-up and that she’s behind on answering her emails – all at the same time. She is a ball of energy, constantly rolling …

And she is so much more … It seems like the little insecure, shy girl that I grew up with has morphed into this self-assured adult who would not take crap from anyone, including her bigger sister – or especially her bigger sister. She is smart. So much smarter than me. She decides people’s lives for a living and can live with herself at night. How many of us can say that?!

She is an artist, a poet, a painter … She loves symphony concerts and European old movies. She loves Starbucks, and Zara, and H&M, bookstores and shoes. Art museums, botanical gardens, and hiking mountainous trails. Her favorite city in the whole wide world is New York City, but she feels at home anywhere big, and hectic, and dirty, and smelly, and reeking with history, but also anywhere wild, remote, with lack of the everyday commodities, like a mountain camp …

She tells me always that I taught her everything, and yet I would have never tried to learn Jim Morrison, Janis Joplin, the principles of painting, Canadian history, Starbucks, Guinness (the beer), patience, the freedom of non-planning and of letting go, truly, if it were not for her … I would have never slept on a beach awaiting a sunrise, nor tried a latte if it were not for her.

She is my favorite conundrum: she will have no qualms about riding a bus all alone in NYC, but is terrified of driving. I love traveling with her because she makes me look for things I would never look for on my own. To think we share the same blood is still mind-boggling. We march by totally different beats.

She is a Canadian but so proud of her Romanian heritage that she oozes Romanian into everything she does – all the foods, the stereotyping of people, the way she talks about money, the friends she chooses … everything…

She is a Leo and proud of it – in love with the sun, their ruling “planet”, and in love with gold and the thought of power. Of reign … She rules her kingdom, with grace and slyness, as she purrs coyly while walking away in a cloud of perfume. Like a true ruler, she is a lover of expensive things, and practical minded at the same time. Like a true lioness, she lives for her cubs. She dotes over them, and shapes them every day into these beautiful (inside and out) creatures. She plays with them, bikes, paints, reads and buys books with them, they plant herbs and clean up fallen leaves in the fall, she goes to concerts with them – I joke and say that she created her own buddies and a fan club at the same time. They adore her. Everything they do, they come to her first for approval. She is their Northern Star. Or maybe their ruling planet?!

She loves dark things, like stouts and full-body cabs, and dark chocolate, murder mysteries, and real-life kidnapping stories,  but her soul is nothing but light and hope; the sweetness of peaches in the summer and the gooeyness of the honey-like summer heat in the air. Her eyes filled with light are wide-open windows to dreams, and plans for the future. And mostly much hope. She dreams of a beautiful place she is trying to get to when every day closes, and she always assumes the goodness in all of us. A goodness foreign to even ourselves.

Reading the lyrics she wrote as a child reminded me of her basic connection with her ruling star, which has been telling every day of her life … She fills up every day since I can remember with this warmth and love and hope she’s learned from the sun, intrinsically, at birth.

She is my Yin to my Yang: she completes me and yet she is my true opposite in everything that is essential. She is my sister. My parents’ free gift to me. 

Happy birthday, sorella! I love you more now than when I started writing this, and less than tomorrow. Be bold. Be brave. Be happy. Be you! You are already everything else.

A year ago leaving Manhattan en route to Lady Liberty