Home...
I am back home, but I have no building to call home anymore.
Until a month ago, I owned a small flat in a communist block. It was mine, I called it home, but I wasn't born there.
Despite that, I loved it with all my heart. It was the only thing I ever had.
During these years of living everywhere but my birth country, it gave me a sense of security and stability.
People used to tell me to sell it because my life was elsewhere.
I always declined and tried to explain why I couldn't, but nobody understood.
The thought of having a roof in time of need gave me comfort and peace of mind.
I would have never sold it for money because it had little estate value.
The money gets spent easily. The roof remains forever if it's built properly.
Yes, it was a communist block, but these blocks are tough!
I am an author, and I don't have a life beyond writing. The way a room looks it does not matter, so that flat was everything to me.
Yet, in February 2019, I sold it.
I sold it so I could build a house for my mother.
I didn't allow myself to feel sad or to be sorry.
In December I was living in the UK.
In January I took the decision to put my life on hold and come back to Romania to give solace to my mother.
The Brexit had a saying in my decision of leaving England, but I didn't plan moving back to my birth country. I was thinking of moving to a sunny country and live close to the beach.
Moreover, I didn't want a house in a village. I am allergic to pollen and I suffer from hayfever. The fields make me feel very ill every day.
I am a woman. Building a house is not an easy thing to do. Of course, I don't build it myself, yet, it's hard. I don't have a car and I know nothing about constructions.
What I do is strictly for my mother.
She turns 84 in a couple of months. Every day matters.
Last year (2018), she lost her life partner with whom she had 11 children, my father. They've been together for 65 years.
Although it wasn't unexpected, it goes without saying that the pain was unbearable. For all of us.
My mom forgot to smile since then.
And she's old and she cannot take care of herself anymore.
So, my sister, Ana, took my mom to live with her in a city 280 km away from where my parents' lived.
My sister takes very good care of my mom, but my mom had only known these places. She never traveled anywhere.
She was born here, she got married here, she gave birth and raised 11 children here and she buried her dearest ones here.
She misses the odor of the fields, the familiar faces of her neighbors, the sounding of the church's bells, the barking of the dogs, the cluck of the chickens, and the roosters' squawk.
She misses everything, and she's suffering.
When you look at her, you'd think she caries a mountain on her shoulders.
But her house made from clay 60 years ago, was falling apart.
The reason my sister took my mother to live with her is that this house had no bathroom and no running water inside.
Now, I don't know if you know how cold are Romanian winters.
They are cold. Cold and snowy. Sometimes the temperatures drop to - 30 Celsius degrees.
It doesn't snow for 6 months as it used to when I was a child, but the snow is deep when it falls.
The elderly cannot live alone during the winter. They cannot carry the logs inside to make the fire in the terracotta stoves.
So, I took a break from writing, sold my flat, tore my parents' house down, and started to build a new one with running water and bathroom inside.
Unfortunately, as I said, my flat had little estate value and that money is less than a quarter of what is needed for this house.
If you have never seen an old Romanian house, you might think that I should have built on top of it.
I can't blame you. Any rational person would have done that if there was anything to build on top of.
Those walls were made from clay (mud) and the foundation was not stable.
It's a long story, but long story short, it would have cost me more if I didn't tear it down.
Difficult to believe, but it's true.
Anyway, I am doing everything I can to build it as soon as possible to bring my mom home.
It's extremely difficult to put together such a large sum of money, but I have to do it.
And I have to do it now. My mom is running out of time.
As for me, I live with my brother. My sister in law is extremely nice and patient with me, but I don't like being a burden. A couple needs privacy.
I don't have any house to call home and I need to settle down.
I am tired of running from a place to another. I moved houses 22 times in 20 years - 7 times in the last 5 months.
I need to calmd down. I need to write, I am an author.
My heart is with my mom's house although I really didn't want a house in a village in Romania.
If you want to help me put a smile on her beautiful face wrinkled by time and exceptional needs, please buy my books and share my posts with your friends.
If you feel particularly generous and you want to donate something, anything, please use this link: https://www.paypal.me/HelpMeToHelpOthers.
The universe will pay you back the kindness.
Can you imagine a year without a shower?
The elderly from my village can because they never knew otherwise. My parents and we lived like this. Strip wash.
But it's difficult. Extremely.
What you read until now is only one of my soul's projects.
I have another one. Bigger. Huge. Completely separated from the above.
I am planning on founding a non-governmental organization (ONG) at the services of the elderly, disabled and marginalized people from my village.
As soon as my mom is home, I will plunge body and soul into this other project.
More about it in another post.
If you want to read now, please click on this link: https://fundatiaiubitibatranii.blogspot.com/2019/01/love-dignity-for-elderly.html.
Support, if you can.
Spread the world, it costs nothing.
Home is where your heart is.
I am back home, but I have no building to call home anymore.
Until a month ago, I owned a small flat in a communist block. It was mine, I called it home, but I wasn't born there.
Despite that, I loved it with all my heart. It was the only thing I ever had.
During these years of living everywhere but my birth country, it gave me a sense of security and stability.
People used to tell me to sell it because my life was elsewhere.
I always declined and tried to explain why I couldn't, but nobody understood.
The thought of having a roof in time of need gave me comfort and peace of mind.
I would have never sold it for money because it had little estate value.
The money gets spent easily. The roof remains forever if it's built properly.
Yes, it was a communist block, but these blocks are tough!
I am an author, and I don't have a life beyond writing. The way a room looks it does not matter, so that flat was everything to me.
Yet, in February 2019, I sold it.
I sold it so I could build a house for my mother.
I didn't allow myself to feel sad or to be sorry.
In December I was living in the UK.
In January I took the decision to put my life on hold and come back to Romania to give solace to my mother.
The Brexit had a saying in my decision of leaving England, but I didn't plan moving back to my birth country. I was thinking of moving to a sunny country and live close to the beach.
Moreover, I didn't want a house in a village. I am allergic to pollen and I suffer from hayfever. The fields make me feel very ill every day.
I am a woman. Building a house is not an easy thing to do. Of course, I don't build it myself, yet, it's hard. I don't have a car and I know nothing about constructions.
What I do is strictly for my mother.
She turns 84 in a couple of months. Every day matters.
Last year (2018), she lost her life partner with whom she had 11 children, my father. They've been together for 65 years.
Although it wasn't unexpected, it goes without saying that the pain was unbearable. For all of us.
My mom forgot to smile since then.
And she's old and she cannot take care of herself anymore.
So, my sister, Ana, took my mom to live with her in a city 280 km away from where my parents' lived.
My sister takes very good care of my mom, but my mom had only known these places. She never traveled anywhere.
She was born here, she got married here, she gave birth and raised 11 children here and she buried her dearest ones here.
She misses the odor of the fields, the familiar faces of her neighbors, the sounding of the church's bells, the barking of the dogs, the cluck of the chickens, and the roosters' squawk.
She misses everything, and she's suffering.
When you look at her, you'd think she caries a mountain on her shoulders.
But her house made from clay 60 years ago, was falling apart.
The reason my sister took my mother to live with her is that this house had no bathroom and no running water inside.
Now, I don't know if you know how cold are Romanian winters.
They are cold. Cold and snowy. Sometimes the temperatures drop to - 30 Celsius degrees.
It doesn't snow for 6 months as it used to when I was a child, but the snow is deep when it falls.
The elderly cannot live alone during the winter. They cannot carry the logs inside to make the fire in the terracotta stoves.
So, I took a break from writing, sold my flat, tore my parents' house down, and started to build a new one with running water and bathroom inside.
Unfortunately, as I said, my flat had little estate value and that money is less than a quarter of what is needed for this house.
If you have never seen an old Romanian house, you might think that I should have built on top of it.
I can't blame you. Any rational person would have done that if there was anything to build on top of.
Those walls were made from clay (mud) and the foundation was not stable.
It's a long story, but long story short, it would have cost me more if I didn't tear it down.
Difficult to believe, but it's true.
Anyway, I am doing everything I can to build it as soon as possible to bring my mom home.
It's extremely difficult to put together such a large sum of money, but I have to do it.
And I have to do it now. My mom is running out of time.
As for me, I live with my brother. My sister in law is extremely nice and patient with me, but I don't like being a burden. A couple needs privacy.
I don't have any house to call home and I need to settle down.
I am tired of running from a place to another. I moved houses 22 times in 20 years - 7 times in the last 5 months.
I need to calmd down. I need to write, I am an author.
My heart is with my mom's house although I really didn't want a house in a village in Romania.
 |
| My mom and I in 2014 |
If you feel particularly generous and you want to donate something, anything, please use this link: https://www.paypal.me/HelpMeToHelpOthers.
The universe will pay you back the kindness.
Can you imagine a year without a shower?
The elderly from my village can because they never knew otherwise. My parents and we lived like this. Strip wash.
But it's difficult. Extremely.
 |
| These were my parents in 2016 |
I have another one. Bigger. Huge. Completely separated from the above.
I am planning on founding a non-governmental organization (ONG) at the services of the elderly, disabled and marginalized people from my village.
As soon as my mom is home, I will plunge body and soul into this other project.
More about it in another post.
If you want to read now, please click on this link: https://fundatiaiubitibatranii.blogspot.com/2019/01/love-dignity-for-elderly.html.
Support, if you can.
Spread the world, it costs nothing.
"Give and it shall be given to you."
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