The Peace of White Lilies

On the first weekend of summer, we drove down about an hour to the sleepy town of Southern Pines. We spent no time in the little Southern town, although we have heard good things about it and plan to go check it out at leisure one day (we figured there won’t be much open during this pandemic, anyhow), but we went there with one purpose in mind only: to have a 2-mile walk (and a picnic sandwich) around Reservoir Lake, the David R. White Greenway trail.

I won’t bore you with all the details of that walk – an easy, wide, dirt trail around Reservoir Lake, not as populated as state park trails around the NC Triangle area – but I will share some of the pictures I took. There were not many creatures out that day, although the day was not hot, but crisp and fair, but the one thing that just left me speechless were the thousands of water lilies. I love water lilies and lotuses because they are such an oddity. They almost need no soil and they come from the dirtiest, nastiest, smelliest, marshful depths to only be one of the most delicate, fragile, and absolutely perfect creations that ever existed on this earth.

In these times of such unrest and turmoil, they were like a pathway to freedom and peace …

Enjoy …

We did the David R. White trail (green) - about 2.2'ish miles

The first peek at Reservoir Lake. It looked so peaceful. Not a sound, not a boat. Just pines, oaks, and water 

They don't call this area "Southern Pines" (next door to Pinehurst) for nothing. Huge Southern pines lined the lake and the trail

The trail was mostly shady, easy and flat. Wide enough that we could dodge other people and puppies without too much closeness

At one point, this opening revealed some creatures: ducks and turtles, and white water lilies beyond. More peaceful.

The ducks shared the log happily with the turtles. And this cute mallard had an awful itch he had to get to! 

More ducks were asleep in the shade of this beautiful branching tree.

About mid-way on the trail there was this tiny stream, flowing lazily into the lake. Just a trickle made a peaceful sound in this mostly quiet area. 

The trail is peppered with these peekaboo "windows" into the lake, where more waterlilies and ducks disturb the spotless surface.

Carpets and carpets of white and green water lilies everywhere, beautifully laced together in perfect harmony.

You don't have to be a Buddhist to believe in enlightenment. For Buddhists, enlightenment equals becoming a Buddha. As living creatures, we're all on a journey to seek enlightenment. 

Water lilies are a close cousin of the lotus flower. When I see them, it reminds me of the most ubiquitous mantra of Buddhism, "Om mani padme hum". 

There are many translations and interpretations on the web for it, so look it up and find your own. For me, the most eloquent one says this: "We have within us the seed of purity, the essence of a One Gone Thus (Tathagatagarbha) (sic), that is to be transformed and fully developed into Buddhahood." (quoted here: https://www.shambhala.com/snowlion_articles/om-mani-padme-hum-dalai-lama/)

Click the last picture to see the entire album.

The Patriotism of “Now”

Random Thoughts on Memorial Day

I grew up in a country that worshiped the past in a present that was corrupted, crooked, unfair, and hopeless. That was and still is called patriotism there. I developed an early, almost visceral dislike for those who worshiped that past while not doing one thing to better the present. One thing to ensure the past stays great through the present and to ensure they hand it even better to the future. I moved to a different country lured by promises of freedom and equality and fairness, and some days I think of my new home and tell myself: “Boy, not much has changed.”

Patriotism, to me, is not remembering those who died for the country once or twice a year, during long weekends between two burgers on the grill. Patriotism should be what we do every day, with all of our own actions to ensure the country moves forward. Patriotism is actively ensuring the future generations will have a better, more secure, brighter future than we did. Patriotism is truly believing to our core that people are equal, that they deserve freedom, unconditionally, and free of labels, and that it does not really matter where we’re from but it matters more what we do, every day. Our individual story and our intrinsic value of who we are, wherever we are and wherever we come from, matters infinitely more. How do we ensure we stay valuable for moving forward age-old ideals? Because, yes, we are the ones called upon that now.    

Sure, the past is great. Sure, those who died defending values such as independence, free knowledge, culture, freedom of speech, freedom of choosing, fighting bondage and unfairness should never be forgotten. But as great as all that was, that is and will forever stay in the past. What we do every day, with every action, with every thought, the way we carry ourselves into the world, the way we teach our children values that will move them forward and not get them stuck into a time earlier than even that of those who already died for these ideals – this is true patriotism and that should be celebrated when we realize, and only then, that everyone is doing it. Until then, we got work to do.

I fear a fake patriotism for all of us, especially today. Folks who today show up on social media to bow to those who made the ultimate sacrifice only to laugh at their next-door neighbor’s ask for freedom and safety for their own children, only to shrug at lending a hand of kindness and thoughtfulness to the less fortunate on account that “handouts are not what this country needs” – I fear these folks might be guilty of fake patriotism.

Sure, sacrifice is deserving of praise. But where is our sacrifice? Why do we think patriotism is a thing of the past? Why do we not think that whatever those people fought for stopped being important? And who do we think has the duty to ensure the future remains as they dreamed of it?

It’s easy (and cool) to worship the greatness of the past. It is mostly hard and uncomfortable to ensure what’s in front of us is not going awry. It’s hard and inconvenient to ensure that in our country (whatever you call it, because this is happening all over the globe) we still defend those ideals for the generations to come. The freedom, true freedom for everyone, not just those who fit snugly into our moral mold, and the defense of that, at all costs, seems to me more patriotic than flying the flag, or saying “we won’t forget.”

Maybe today is not the day. Maybe today should be a day of worship. But this is what today, just like July 4^th and Veterans Day - this is what days like these make me think about, every year. These days are a stark reminder to me that we should risk being a little more uncomfortable to try to do our share to right some wrongs. Our work is not done. It never will be. This is what I celebrate today: the hope that we will finally, as nation, understand that our work is not done and that we will ensure that our good ideals will continue to be fulfilled and guarded viciously for those who will, one day, look at us as the past. After all, this is the only way I know that those many people who died already will not think that did so in vain.

Escaping for a Day

We’ve been sheltering-in-place since March. Almost two months. We have cleaned the house, cleaned the yard, re-cleaned the house, did some crafts, worked, cooked, ate, walked around the neighborhood and discovered new parks and trails around our town. But some days I have kinda reached the limit of what else I could possibly do to fill up my time.

I can do a little longer without people. But I could not do anymore without getting out of town. Truly, just driving away and leaving home behind. Going away is vital to me. I need to get away, to not see my hearth just so I can recharge, just so I can look back at my life with perspective and re-plan, rearrange and find efficiencies. If I just sit in one spot, I churn the same garbage every day and nothing new nor good emerges from it.

I am also a Gypsy by heritage. We cannot help it. We wander. If we don’t move about, we don’t breathe. If we don’t dream and plan in our head our next trip, we suffocate. Without this, I could no longer do.

How much harm can it be done to just get into our own car and start driving on the open road? Maybe get to the edge of a hill, stop, look down at the valley and breathe in the wind. Then snap a few shots, turn around and come home. How much harm? We won’t run into anyone. We have only our home, and no other people, to come to. No one to meet at the end of that road, no one to come home to but us. How much harm?!

We’re somewhat lucky in this country: we’re free to drive anywhere. Some people abuse it, unfortunately. But we try to use that privilege carefully. So, to get us out of this funk, we jumped in the car and ended up in Mayo River State Park, about an hour and 20 minutes North of our house, on the North Carolina – Virginia border.

This is what Highway NC-421 looks like in a pandemic

I know you’d think that it would be repetitive to say that a forest is green. But this forest was green! I mean, even branches and dried up pine cone which are normally brown turned green under the intense green reflection from the leaves and from underbrush vegetation around on them. We took pictures of each other and our skin looks green in them. It must be the spring fresh, virgin green, not sure, but everything was drowned in in.

This green forest ... 

We hiked a 1.8 mile trail up in the woods, and then down. A loop. One foot in front of the other. We took about 200 feet in elevation, and then lost it back on the way down. We had no idea the trail was uphill, and the bitter wind and the 58F temps made my chest tighten up and wore me out.

More pure and reflective green on the forest floor, most of these were along or on the trail

The trees were dense and tall – some of the tallest trees I have seen in The East, for sure. The interpretive panels scattered along the trail told us their names: American Beech, Red Maple, Sweetgum, White Oak. 

I have never seen so many fallen trees in a forest in my life. It felt like either their roots were too shallow to hold them up and they grew too tall for their roots, or that wind might have been permanent to knock them down daily. The trees that were still standing were whining. Almost every other tree was creaking like an old person’s joint with arthritis. Then branches, or half trees were falling all around us. We feared a big beast was near from all the noise of broken branches we were hearing, but there was really nothing but butterflies, lots of bugs and a tail-less lizard. Not even a squirrel. Birds were few. Just the trees complaining and breaking …

There was a spit of rain in the dry spring benches under the green forest, but no big water in the woods. There were a couple of ponds framing one end of the parking lot, before we started the walk with a couple of families of geese having a day out, too.

One of the peaceful ponds before we headed to the trail

The trail looked very wild. If it had not been for the marks on the trees that told us we’re still on it, we might have thought we’re not on the trail several times during our journey. There were ferns and other vegetation growing on the trail. And moss, too. Sure signs that the trail is not that busy.

We walked and walked and saw maybe 6 people in total during our two hour hike. Most people were hiking alone. A couple of teens were on a date, possibly. They hung a camping hammock between two trees away from the trail (thankfully) and they were telling each other sweet nothings.

We stopped often to wow at the trees and to take pictures. To take the life in, because every whimper of every tree, every swoosh of the ferns in the wind, every chirp of a random bird screamed life. Gentle life coming back to the world: butterflies, baby geese on the lakes, bright bugs eating leaves, lizard with no tail, halved but still alive and moving.

After the walk in the woods, we walked around the lakes and chased the geese one more time. 

Then, we took the car, and headed past random barns leaning on one side, past log cabins with darling little geranium window boxes, past old Southern homes with columns all around and deep porches with hanging fans on ceilings, past lazy cows watching their new-borns running about, chewing their lunch in approval towards another entrance of the Mayo River State Park. 

Driving around the country-side of North Carolina and Virginia, through the deep green forests, tires caressing the gentle sloping hills, and taking in the quiet, peaceful life of a people that have seen and done too much to rush is like driving through a fairy tale. 

Could be a shed, or a house, but it's poetic nonetheless

The second part of the park that we went to was right along the Mayo River proper – as peaceful and serene (besides the whining trees and the wind) as the forest was, the river was loud and screaming. Swallows were dive-bombing into the water, barely touching it with a wing. The current and rapids were too massive for any fish to swim about and not smash against the huge river rock. The roar was deafening.

After a 20 minute or so break for more nature watching and picture taking, we headed back home. I felt like we at the very least spent one night away from home! I felt like we headed up there at least 24 hours before. The richness of another place filled my voided soul with so much beauty and freshness.

I am so grateful we are well enough to travel, even for a day, and we live in a place so beautiful (really, the whole world is, if you look for it!) that allows us to take it in in a few hours (or less) so close to home. For half of a day, we did not stare at a screen, we did not read one piece of bad news, we did not eat uselessly for the fourth time in an hour. For half of a glorious, chilly, bright, windy May day, we renewed our breath and our retinas. We took in almost no people, either: only nature, clean air and promise of life eventually winning …

Swallows swooning into the Mayo River.
Click the picture to see the entire album from this trip. 

The Pup

“Who needs a house up on a hill

When you can have one on four wheels
And take it anywhere the wind might blow
(…)
Just hang a map and throw a dart
And pray to God the engine starts and go.

(…)

Parking lots and county lines
Countin' mile marker signs
Where the buffalo and antelope
(…)
One more postcard for the wall
Off in our home sweet home away from home”

I dreamed of camping in The Rockies since my first trip there, to Vail, CO in 1999. You can say that was a century-old dream. As such.

We were lucky enough to move Out West in 2010 and we tent camped in various places, but not as much as I wanted to. I was too scared to. Too scared of bears and too scared of the random (and frequent) rattlesnake.

In the summer/ fall of 2015, we bought a camper, for added security and because neither one of us was done camping. We called it “The Pup”. That was really, its name – “The Wolf Pup” from Forest River. 

The Pup

We bought it for one feature only: it had an enormous window right in front of the dining table. We dreamed of having many meals on that table while watching the wildlife and the vegetation. And that, we did.

That window!! 

My mom made us a cross-stitched framed “poster” to hang in it. It felt like home. If you’ve never owned a camper or used one, it’s like having a vacation home anywhere you want to be. Wherever you go, you change your landscape, your view, but you’re still home. Like you never left. No need to sanitize your bathroom when your hotel is your own house.

Mom's cross-stitch 

We kept a “Wolf Pup Journal” in it and we both wrote about every stay in The Rockies, and then across America, and then around NC and VA. Here are some samples from our adventures.

“First trip ever together, in a camper. Beautiful fall colors. Temps dropped to 65F. (…) The campground is full of mooing cows. Love it! (…) Our favorite meal was the baked potatoes. Just wrapped in foil and cooked in the fire. Tonight we’re having pancakes – just fried dough in the flat iron press. The fall is gentle and gorgeous, but it is bitter cold at night. Grateful for the camper! It’s been a no phone and no internet kind of weekend.” (me) – September 2015 - Diamond Campground in Spanish Fork Canyon, UT

“As I write this we are sitting in our camp chairs, relaxing, enjoying the sound of the river, the falling yellow and orange leaves. And the sounds from the river.” (Aa.)

“This is a gorgeous campground – very woodsy and shaded. We’re camping by The Salt Creek and the mountain stream song is soothing. It’s late in the year but it’s 80F+ today. So peaceful.(…) A deer came and drank from the creek this morning, over breakfast. ” (me)  – September 2015 – Ponderosa Campground on Nebo Loop, UT

“Our site has lots of sap on everything, from the towering pine trees above us. Yesterday, around 5PM, we were having a snack and Aa. saw a deer outside our dining seat window – so close, just outside - eating trees.” (me) – June 2016 - Timpanogos Campground, Alpine Loop, UT

“Reason #1 why we bought a camper was so that we could feel safe to camp off the grid, meaning not in a campground. So, this is our first try. (…) We picked a pasture by the side of the river, on the right of the road. (…) There is not much to be heard, other than the occasional breeze through the tall grasses and the stream right in front of us. There is a rare car, and lots of close gun shots. I am thinking of the Old West: we have a shovel waiting right next to the firepit, gun shots, tall grasses, a big, cloudless, tall sky above us. Old and New West at its best.” (me) – August 2016 - off the grid in Diamond Fork Canyon, UT

“This time the campground is a ghost town! Maybe two other couples and the camp host. I love camping in the fall for this reason: quiet and uncrowded. We didn’t forget anything this time, … but we needed more duct tape! Always can use more of that!” (me)

“Shortly after arriving we had a short thunderstorm. We sat under the awning and read. After the storm, we shot the water on leaves then went for a hike. Had a lot of trouble keeping the fire going today.” (Aa.)  – October 2016 - Cherry Campground – Spanish Fork, UT

The West and The East

“We’re above 8000F and my heart can tell you that. I don’t have enough air, and my throat feels strangled, but the view from up here is stunning! We’re parked atop this huge pasture covered in yellow daisies. Bugs, butterflies and birds hover over it in droves. Then, in the way distance, the Nebo range stands tall and green with hints of red rock. It’s probably one of the most beautiful places we’ve ever camped in.” (me) – July 2017 -  Blackhawk Campground on Nebo Loop, UT

“After lunch we explored the river behind our site. The river’s so full and as loud as a torrential downpour. The whole weekend we felt like it was raining outside, but it was just the river. The site and the entire campground are the most forested that we’ve ever camped in. (…) On Saturday, I painted a campfire in the woods and a lotus flower. We napped. At night, Aa. learned to play Macau and he loves it.” (me) – July 2017 – Tanners Flat Campground, Little Cottonwood Canyon, UT

The past-times

“The trip Eastward started yesterday. We spent the first night on the road at The Moab KOA. It’s a lovely, quiet place on Highway 191. (…) Gypsy is still a bit scared, but he is better by the hour. He’s scared when the heater comes on and when he sees other people outside our window.” (me) – October 2017 – Moab KOA, UT

“We drove on Historic Route 66 the whole way from New Mexico. I felt like such a hippie. Oklahoma is humid and hot.” (me) – Elk City KOA, OK

The KOAs

“The first camping trip since we moved back to NC. We were reminded very quickly on our first night, that we can no longer camp in the summer in NC. The heat, humidity and bugs made it impossible to be outside or have a pleasant campfire. (…) We hiked, we napped, I wrote, we read and it’s been fun to do something else than be in the house.” (me) – Holly Point Campground, Falls Lake, NC

“After getting the pup situated, I checked in with the campground host. I then delivered firewood to friends (…). It’s cold and rainy, so we did hot dogs and beans on the stove. It was a delicious dinner.” (Aa.) – November 2018 – Camping with friends in Hanging Rock State Park, NC

The food gets a different dimension out there 

“The site we have is right on Smith Mountain Lake. (…) It’s been great to look at this huge lake, hear the geese and crickets sing their song, hear the waves splash the shore when a boat goes by, see the huge fish jump out of the water for a sip of real air. (…) Surely every trip is a lesson and a memory for both of us.” (me) – August 2019 – Camping with friends in Camp Kilowatt, Union Hall, VA

People buy campers for various reasons. Some buy them to have them as their home. We bought ours to find peace in The Rockies. Off the grid. When we moved back East, the landscape, the weather did not allow for the same wilderness and getting-lost-ness that we had experienced in The West. It was time to say goodbye. And we did. This week. We’re left full of longing, but happy that we had these four years of learning and communing with nature in a way you can’t do from your couch.

Good bye, Pup! We both hope you can make many more people 

feel at home and safe, like you did with us!  

Never understood whether the rainbow starting in my home was supposed to be a good omen or not: Driving back East to NC we drove for a whole day into a downpour which became a tornado at one point. As we were getting closer, the rainbow dumped into our Pup. At that time, with the Utah house sold and the NC one not bought yet, The Pup was our only home. 

12 Years in Love

I can remember that first call like it was yesterday. Your dad called around 9 AM on April 29, 2008 and called me “aunt” for the first time. It was surreal. I could say that was the day I knew I was irreparably in love forever, but that would not be accurate. I was in love with you since I knew you were created! Way, way before you made your appearance into the world, surprisingly early. By about two months, to be exact. A desperate and hopeless love that nothing in the world could ever shake. 

On this very special day, I now look back and remember these past 12 years ... 

You beat all the odds in those first days in the hospital and came home earlier than anyone expected it. You ate, and laughed, and demanded, and grew pretty much without a concern that you were early and you had to chill to make up for some time. You plowed right on through, head first, towards life, without fear or reservation! Just with infinite courage and gusto. 

You visited more countries in your first two years of life than I visited in my first twenty! You crossed The Atlantic, and drove almost the entire Eastern seaboard of the US. You scraped your knees, and played, and ate, and learned, and grew some more … 

Then, you got to became a big brother. After the couple of so months of feeling left out, maybe, you learned fast how to manage that competition. And you decided it was not a competition at all. You learned to love and protect your little brother pretty much like everyone hoped, only more. 

Then, there came the Lego phase. And then the Skylander phase. Then the boy scout phase, and the fishing and camping one (I hope these last ones stick around for a while!). Now, the Harry Potter one! And it goes on ... 

You somehow figured out almost instinctively how to unconditionally love people, animals and the environment. You are always willing to go the extra mile to support those you love and to be kind to those in need.  I will never forget how, with your brother, you donated your money to the Australian fires. Before then, when you were wee big, you stopped in the middle of the street to pick up a doll for a little girl who had dropped it. Your empathy only grew with you … 

We have watched you grow, and become this amazing human being, considerate, kind, incredibly talented with an uncanny patience to learn and evolve.Yet, still a child. Still innocent and full of life.  

Who would have thought that that baby, so little he could fit in almost two large palms will one day teach himself how to write music and computer programs? That he would teach himself how to cook and install and troubleshoot software for anyone, including his teachers? That he would want to learn how to do complicated magic tricks, and stone carve, do woodworking, and even knit? Your qualities are many and I love you for them all. But if I had to pick one thing that amazes me always about you is your insatiable curiosity. I hope you keep that forever, sweet boy! 

Through it all, through all your maturity and savviness, you remained this beautiful, wide-eyed kid, that busted up his head a year or so ago, and twisted an ankle. You say cute things now like “Thank you for creating me in creative mode” and “maybe my manners are now in quarantine, too.” Now, we chat on Discord and Facebook messenger and you write me beautiful cards for my birthday. You draw beautifully and you sold your first poster. All this seems surreal, too. I still want to somewhere find that little helpless baby, born 12 years ago, and although I can still see him in your eyes and smile, that baby is long gone. You’re what I call a “real human” now.  

Now, more than the first day when I knew you existed, and even more than the day you were born, I love and cherish you and thank God you’re in our lives! For everything you are, and everything you have given us. 

Thank you for the many memories, Mr. Patrick. Thank you for teaching us how to discover the world with you. Thank you for making me an aunt. And more than anything, thank you for the laughs! I cannot imagine what the next 12 years will bring us (I would not even dare), but my curiosity is as big as yours to find out! 

Happiest of birthdays, my love! Many hugs, sweet buddy, and infinite love from the USA! 

Full Circle: 10 Years.

“Today you are You, that is truer than true. There is no one alive who is Youer than You.” (Dr. Seuss)

They tell you you should do something special for your anniversaries. And we surely tried to plan something special for our 10 year anniversary. But life and COVID19 got in the way and our trip to the Old Country got canceled. But something special we are doing. Something memorable and unique: surely we will never forget our first ever celebration in confinement, at home, with stores all closed to the point we couldn’t even buy each other gifts, and with the flower man delivering flowers with surgical gloves on. What a hoot! A story to tell our nephews, if they should ever forget … 

I can’t even begin to tell you about what a wild ride these ten years have been! We’ve had it all, as life is such a party… Enumerating everything we’ve been through, all the storms and triumphs, feels like maybe cheapening the beauty of all that has been … More than anything else, I want to remember these ten years as the best part of my life. The part where I grew and finally matured. The part where I truly became whole. The part where I gave all that I could give from a deep, deep place in my heart. 

I never believed in truly happy marriages before. I knew some couples, very few, in my life that came close, but true happiness, so much of it that it stops your breathing, I thought a product of imagination of really gifted writers. But I was humbled and blessed with this man in my life who gave me that and much more during these amazing years.

If I have one advice for anyone (should anyone be looking for it) about what a true happy partnership is, having learned what I have learned in the past 10 years, I would say this: figure out who you are. Figure out who you are, and what you are about. Figure out who you are when you’re happy, when you’re sad, when you’re enraged, and when you’re at peace. Figure out who you are when things are easy and when they are hard. Figure out who you are when you cry and when you laugh the hardest. Then, find the person who makes you be the best of you in every situation, every day, always. The person that brings nothing but the best you to the table. Every. Day. In. Every. Situation. No matter how good, or how bad. Then, you’re a winner. 

Happy anniversary, babe! Thank you for letting me do me every second of the past 315,569,220 seconds of our lives. I can only hope you feel the same … Looking forward to many, many more open and closed spaces with you … 

***

The past 10 years have been like a boomerang for us, location-wise: our together-journey started 10 years ago today in Greensboro, NC. That year we moved away to Utah for most of our years together. Today, we are sitting across from each other in our living room in Pittsboro, NC. Full circle, indeed ... 

In-between those locations, we traveled a lot. Because travel is what we do that makes us both happy. We never took it for granted, but we don't, more so today than ever. 

Today, we are home. Today, we travel through the memories we made in these past 10 years. Here’s a look at the past 10 anniversaries where our freedom was a little bit less confined:

April 2011: Bryce Canyon, UT: we got to our hotel (Ruby's) almost at midnight to find out they were still closed for the winter season, and not open quite yet for the summer season. Although ... we had booked it online the week before. Luckily, the Best Western across the street was open. 

2012: Pojorata, Romania: this is the backyard of where I grew up in the Moldovan Carpathians. I was dying for us to go hike that mountain behind our house, but we were there for 4 days and it rained non-stop. Aa. got really sick, too. 

2013: Zion National Park, UT: We hiked the Zion Canyon trail not knowing there are portions of the trail missing. We had to cross skinny metal bridges that bridged the rocks with hundreds of feet of abyss below us to come up to this view of the Zion Mt. Carmel road below.

2014: Las Vegas, NV: We spent some time in Vegas and we were not alone. My sister came along for the ride. 

2015: London, the UK: We spent our fifth anniversary in London. We loved The Westminster Abbey the best, but the gin and the tea and the food were amazing, too. We loved it so much, we wanted to go see all the isles for our 10th anniversary, but ... 

2016: Utah Lake, UT: I was only two months away from my open-heart surgery this year, so we could not go far from home. But we went shooting (Canons, not rifles) around this gorgeous lake as nature was waking up and snow was melting ... 

2017: Moab, UT: We spent our anniversary weekend in one of our favorite national parks with dear friends who were visiting us from NC. Now, we are almost neighbors, living in the same small town, since we moved back to NC ourselves. 

2018: Chapel Hill, NC: we chased one of our favorite chefs, Brandon Sharp, from CA to NC, as he relocated here, after we moved back. Dinner at The Carolina Inn. (Brandon now has his own restaurant in Chapel Hill and our dinner tonight comes from him, too). 

2019: Charleston, SC: Magnolia Plantation was a dream. Humidity, marshes, Spanish moss, live oaks - we are back in the South and my heart is happy still. 

2010: Greensboro, NC: We lit this candle on our wedding day. I can only hope and pray that we continue to keep it burning just as bright as then for many, many, many more Aprils to come. Help me do that, babe! Happy 10th! Much love! 

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!