Let me strip life of all that’s unimportant and tell you what’s left
Olya Aman
I am naturally taciturn. After the tragic death of my father, it was easier to get a full version of a Bollywood movie out of my expressive face than speech out of my lips. This peculiar characteristic of mine stays true to me till this day.
Simple life firmly impresses true values upon your memory
My family lived in one of four identical solid wood houses built close to each other for collective farm workers, near a wheat field about a mile from the rest of the villagers. Beautiful flower beds in front of it and a neat looking vegetable garden behind it were the objects of envy and admiration of all the women of the neighborhood. My mother said that it was from her that the village ladies learned to hang linen the ‘right’ way, placing it on a rope grouped by size and color.
Delicious memories of my childhood were made not from the riches but from unconditional love and care of my dear parents. My light heart and bright visions thrived in an atmosphere of slight monetary tightness because the right people were beside me. My mother and father found each other at the humble beginnings of their lives, and their union gave us the brightest bliss that would last a lifetime.
My family was an example of true devotion and love that does not consider poverty a misfortune, but rather a way to be inventive. My father made the best toys out of anything that he could find close to his skilled hands: a piece of wood, a branch from a tree, or a chunk of plastic someone tossed away.
The list can be endless. He made a wooden doll for my sister and presented it dressed in the cutest outfit my mom made from various pieces of cloth. I still have that doll, the dress she wears now is knitted by my crafty hand and the ugly-looking shoes and hat are the results of my niece’s experimentations with threat and a hook.
The whisper of beauty beyond the tomb
My father was a forester, an occupation that barely provided for our family but which he would never change for a more highly paid job, like a combine or a tractor driver. He was on duty going around the encampment spots and making sure no one was abusing the unfortunate forest for its wood, when the sound of a fire alarm brought him home.
The unusually hot summer weather in July 1993 endangered not only forests but all the grass fields of the area. The windy weather made the progress of the wildfire rapid and valiant. The woman and the infant, our next-door neighbors, were sound asleep and hopefully never sensed the pain of a horrible death.
My father entered the house in an attempt to save the mother with her baby. He perished with them.
The memorial service for the three victims of the fire was performed on the same day. My mother became a frequent visitor to the village church and talked a lot with our priest after every Sunday mass.
The priest told her:
“Those who have lived but are no longer with us implore us to step on a road of recovery. You need to continue living under the united care of the love remembered and the love still felt. The marks of grief and regret awaken the health-diminishing powers within. You need to learn contentedness again, even if more from good-mother-nature than from people.”
Father Peter was not only the old and wise priest of our ancient church, but the best friend of my father. Maybe that is why his following words helped my mother to find the strength within to live and to love:
“Material advantages of fortune are lost amid the true treasures of sincere affection. Loving people can lend fresh vigor to your life. The luster of the loving eyes, the brightness of the sincere smile, the beaming of the compassionate soul whisper of beauty beyond the tomb.”
My father’s last words are imprinted in my memory
“Now it is a custom to be fenced from the plants by stone walls as if we have nothing in common with them. It is not enough to simply plant a flower in your house — in this case, it will feel itself a prisoner. It needs to be precisely invited.”
I believe those were the last words my father said to me. He found me struggling with some kind of weed looking plant and sat on bare soil beside. It was so awesome to see him sitting on plane earth. I mean, it was normal for a kid to ignore the caution from adults to put something under your little butt, but for my wise father to do so seemed the coolest thing for a 5-year-old me.
My father was a person who had the vastness of nature to lose himself in. He had internal respect for all the living. He transferred this value to me on the day he said those words. With each passing year, I grow more familiar and confidential with the surrounding scenery. This intimate connection helps me cope with many life trials that are tossed on me. Every time I call up before my mind’s eyes the greenery and fragrance of the fields, mountains, and forests, I lift a dusky curtain of grief inch by inch and recover my balance.
Losing my father stripped life from everything unimportant. Let me tell you what’s left.
My life holds onto family values and support from caring people.
As confused as our existence can be sometimes, only family gives us the heart to cope with all difficulties. I’ve learned to value the power of it. Our devotion and love are gaining in strength with passing time and experienced together challenges. There is no one in this world so close and dear for me as my mother and sister, my husband, and kids. Nothing can disturb the equanimity of my mind because I have the support of loving people.
I welcome love and compassion and let these feelings do their healing deed. Kind communication can always draw a smile from me in the gloomiest time of my life. My family and close friends help me recover my will-power. To be with loving people has something of the divine in it.
O. looked at things in a funny sort of way, even going home from school with her was an intellectual research of a peculiar kind.
Introduction
She was curious about every little thing which made an ordinary spider seem an amazing creature. Her sense of humor made a simple sentence from a school dull textbook an anecdote that made us laugh till stomachache and we often ended up expelled from the class. She always knew what to say at the right moment. I do not think she ever had that notion of coming out with a trenchant response, but the dispute was a week ago.
Imagination helps to cope with everyday repetitive activities. It gives flexibility to your dreams, form to your ideas, and direction to your actions. Good humor in the face of boring certainty spares you the anguish of delay. You see success in every direction if you accompany your actions with delightful excitement.
1) Collect a Good Bunch of Friends and an Imposing Burst of Laughter
We shared one desk for three consecutive years in 7th, 8th, and 9th grade. These years were the most refreshing from all my school experience. Being best friends while sitting together, we didn’t even talk much neither before no after those years. I believe some people come to our life like a fresh breeze from the sea and as easily go away. They bring that cooling sensation to the skin and mind, fill in the world around with stars you haven’t seen, juicy grass you haven’t touched, and aroma of wild flowers you didn’t pay attention to before.
Do not fail to find words of comfort and encouragement when your friend needs it. That same person will do justice to you when an unfortunate time comes. The depressing influence of loneliness brings a grim look on everything. Joyous laugh in a good company makes you feel untiring. And a constant repetition that is going on in life will not be able to disquiet you when a warm company is present.
2) Wrap Your Senses in New Fresh Sensations
Being a shy teenager, I came to be boisterous with her. She used to shake any mishap rather as a terrier shakes himself with ease and grace. The moment I used to start to complain about being bored she would raise her voice so either by hook or by crook I had to hear what she was going to fire on me. “What the-dickens, did you imagine this thing dull? Let me put you wise how things are,” she used to say in Agatha Christie’s perfect traditions way. And in a telegraphic manner she recounted the same events I was perfectly aware of, but word by word her interpretation served to whet my curiosity to hear more and learn her version of the same scene.
Give a new turn to your thoughts and senses. Decorate your days with fresh sensations. Open your eyes to see the scenery around you. You need to tear away the veil of monotony that obscures your view. With a deeply positive turn of mind your cheerfulness will be growing bigger by the moment.
3) Let the Faintest Thing Amuse You
The simplest pleasure was a trip home from school in her company. Every time adjusting the root O. brought a different perspective to the view I used to consider established. I became a fan of a village humble life when I saw back allies and sheds along an earth road, the smell of fresh cow’s milk and newly cut grass, potholes of rainwater with flashes of the afternoon sun in them. I had half a mind she had some magic stick in her sleeve as every time she managed to show me something new in a place I considered completely explored a long time ago. O. helped me to learn how to break some routine behavior and recharge my mind so that it starts to function in a manual mode rather than living on autopilot.
Habit is rust that eats through steel. It can be the most dangerous thing in the universe. Often it denies the possessor from the joy of seeing the beauty of life when you look it in the face.
Little pleasurable moments appear as merely part of the background if you do not pay attention. Let small things find an echo in your soul. This will help you to kill the dullness. Do not receive life gruffly, bear philosophically the rain and wind, and smile to the sun and breeze.
4) Venture Dreaming and Achieve an Inner Burning Desire
I remember on one occasion when we decided to have a day off school, my mom at that time trusted me with such decisions, as I used reason explaining why the history lesson and coming right after the one on physical education ccould be missed, and the time could be employed with so much more profit at home getting ready for some interesting project or other.
O. came to my place, most likely not letting her parents know that she was going NOT to school, and we had an interesting conversation about our plans for the future. Time suited perfectly as we were in the 9th grade when a lot of students decide to enter a world of professional education and leave school behind. I was still in black on what to do with my life, but I thought my idea of O.’s future was clear enough. So, I laid out a plan for her life adopting her way of telegraphic speech. I said: “Future is flexible. Project it in your mind. Start acting today. Make your dreams come true. You want to share how you see things. So, do it.”
I used to outwear through the books about the power of attraction and considered myself an expert in those things, so my language flourished with affirmations like ‘thought vibrations’, ‘energy’, ‘manifestation’ and the like. She said she wanted to break from the strong hold of her parents rather sooner than later and would rather go to college that year. We’ve looked through the list of opened professions and picked newspaper editor, radio host, and TV host. Although, I’ve lost sight of her when she left school that year, for some reason I was almost sure she succeeded to fulfill our plan for her future. But to learn for a fact what became of her I managed only very recently.
Give free play to your imagination. Turn your life into a romance with the flexible flow of your dreams. Bend a listening ear to the faintest lovely vision. And a sudden fit of joyful spirits will come over you. You should hear yourself repeating, like a man conversing with yourself about his bright future.
5) Rush to Attack Your Dreams with Plans and Actions
Since the time of my move abroad I stopped following the development of television life. I find myself watching some show or other only when I visit my parents. A year ago, I happened to stumble on a TV program which the first time in many years gave me a vague desire to put a huge cinema set in my apartment when I get back home just to be able to see the landscapes of my native country in that interpretation. The notion that the voice behind the camera was painfully familiar almost tickled me to death, and I tried to rack my brain in vain hopes to remember where I’d heard it before. What my amusement was when I read the name of my school friend in the movie ending credits.
O. was in her yarn being a well-known journalist that traveled the country and showed the ordinary life of simple people in her signature TV show. I knew her medical family wanted her to continue the family tradition, and I’m happy she finally did what she was intended to even against her relatives’ wishes. She might not have confidence at the time in the success of that new plan we drafted, but she was stubborn enough to act without the belief, knowing that faith would pave the way from words to the heart later, over time. Her bold determination opened the door to her dream life. The one in which she can share her inexhaustible resource of vigor that always was contagious to the ones around her. The way she chose to spend her life proved to be the best as now she could reach more people, showing them the way how to look at the familiar scenery in a new refreshed way.
Your customary activity may fatigue you, do not lose yourself in this dreary feeling. Add sunlight to your days by planning things you like. Schedule steps that will get you closer to something you like.
Restore your energy with an activity that always makes you feel good. It may be a desire to shoot your own movie, a dream of your own book published, or simply a refreshing vacation. Enjoy making plans and start implementing those little by little.
Conclusion
Even now many years after when the ongoing every day routing becomes unbearable and the feeling that everything should be turned upside-down immediately – for example, I crave to bring down the sky to the earth and see what happens – then simple delight can be found for me in choosing a different route to a known place so that life can be seen through the eyes of new impressions, spooning with mysterious turn in an unusual place, holding hands with a randomly picked way that leads only home. A minor change in things that used to be boring repaints those in fresh colors and it comes to be an interesting task to observe familiar repeated life so recently you’ve been fed up with.
A dull, dreary life is an impossibility and can exist only in the minds of people. If you want to be a true master of yourself you need to rule over your thoughts first and foremost. The imminent danger of boredom is a possible condition of clinical depression. You need to take every precaution that is possible to add a cheerful touch to your daily life. The wearing elements can be great, but if you let yourself to be every now and then lost in dreamy wonderings, you will feel like an air of ease is winning the mastery.
My mom shaped our delicate souls with unconditional love
The snow was deep, the morning was happy, and the planned activity for the day was the most cheerful. A nearby forest was a place for kids’ games and enchanted stories about hidden treasures. The kids from the entire village gathered their sleds, skis, and simple hunks of plastic (those were the best things to sled down the main hill) and met at the designated place.
I put on my best coat. That white-pinkish fake fur made me look like a tiny cloud of thick mist on skinny legs — and taking my makeshift sledding gear, I ran to meet my friends. We had a blast! My face was red, my lips chapped, and my eyes watered from the frosty air, happy shouting and too much laughing.
When I came home at last, much later than my mom allowed me, I looked like a drenched grey mouse. My lovely fur turned into a dirty wet mass. The look on my mother’s face said more than words could. But she composed herself, closed her eyes, and sighed with a soft smile on her lips.
I understood fully her words many years after. At that time, they only meant that she was not cross with me, “You know I love you, cutie pie. Life is a collection of happy moments, so let us have another one together. I will make your favorite pancakes. How about that?”
My sister and I were sitting at our small square solid-wood dining table covered with a sunflower tablecloth. My mom always made our house look like one of Stephen Darbishire’s summer paintings. We had color sprinkled in each room: handmade pillows, embroidered pictures, and lacy doilies on every surface.
I spilled my tea, dotted the space around my teacup with sugar, and put the cuff of my shirt in jam with no reproachful comments from neither my mom nor my sister. The green tea with ginger, lemon, and honey was my mother’s masterpiece. Accompanied by hot pancakes, straight from the pan, it was the greatest luxury of my childhood. I needed to possess a remarkable skill to finish the previous round and soft delicacy in time to stretch my hand for a new hot one before my sister did. It was a fun little competition. Even nowadays we play this game mostly to amuse each other and to make our mom laugh heartily.
My mother knew the power of unconditional love as a parent and chose to show it in three main ways. We can use these in our parenting too:
Choose happy moments to outline life.
To an outsider’s scrupulous eye, it might have been a sad life of many losses, but she decided otherwise. We lost our father when I was three years old, and my mom was only twenty-eight. We were her salvation. Her nature was overly sensitive to every little prick in our humble family life. She shaped our delicate souls with a dominant spirit of unconditional love, and it showed us the path to happiness.
Allow them to experiment and explore.
We attain knowledge by trial and failure, touch, and pain. My mom knew that it was necessary to have something to regret about. There is no freedom in a house in constant order with kids in a state of never broken obedience. Wild tunes should have their place in every family symphony.
The world around us is alive, ruddy, and satisfying only if we are allowed to make mistakes without fear. Being a living embodiment of love, trust, and understanding, she always thought about the consoling things to say when she saw the sparks of tears in our eyes.
Make every moment special.
What to use as a measuring scale when you define life is solely a personal choice. There is a multitude of feelings, countless moments, numerous meetings, hopefully, plentiful impressions — everything has its own emotional shade. The good news is we can choose the colors to paint our life.
We are all composed of the fragments of our various experiences. Being a parent myself, I know it is in my power to make most of these personality-building-moments bright, colorful, and happy for my children.
I act often with fear and bravery chasing each other in my eyes… – Olya Aman
Introduction
L. is a good nurse, and that alone tells a lot about her. She was born in Rwanda, adopted and raised in Europe. L. moved back to Rwanda when she learned her way and made sure that helping her patients was her aim in life. After the genocide her native country needed support, her least lucky people needed her knowledge.
You must not grudge me a little pomp and ceremony about this story. L. is a fine creature, her big almost black identical in size and shape eyes cause people to confide in her. She learned early on to listen, and this skill proved to be invaluable in her profession.
“Every day is like putting Humpty Dumpty back together again,” she says. “I begin my harum-scarum day and see the transformation, one person at a time.”
People often live with the brow of an optimist above and the jaw of a pessimist below. To make one dominate another is to create real value in life. A positive approach to everything one does helps to build a skill set that makes a smile last a lifetime. Whereas, one sardonic smile can bring gloom that blankets everything around.
1) Negative Thoughts Are as Bad as a Dangerous Plague, and Infinitely as Harmful to Your Health
“I was 12 when my new parents took me to Europe. I have my first memories linked with horror and fear, loss and grief. Those memories shaped my personality and in some way, I am grateful for the background I have. Although, gratitude was not speedy enough to visit me.”
“My good, generous and loving parents had to put up with a lot. I was not an obedient child, rebelling at anything and everything. I was in constant emotional pain at least first five-six years or so. The lesson of the genocide period in Rwanda left my whole being in ruins. Nearly one million people were killed. I lost my family, my friends, everything I ever loved.”
When we feel negative emotions, they surround our brain by a mysterious halo, which shuts off the outside world, limiting our ability to see the way out. Our brain finds it easy to see the raw afternoon and the dense fog, the muddy streets, and the bleak houses.
You need to make an effort to not letting bad things alone take their own bad way. The world takes gloomy and bright passages, and if you take it off-handedly, it will never go right for you. That is why in the midst of the mud and at the heart of the fog you need to force yourself to see the light, to shake the negativity off.
Procrastination, spoliation, evasion, botheration blind your brain, depriving you of the ability to see the options and choices that surround you.
2) How Positive Thoughts Color Our Life in Healthy Beautiful Shades
“Love and patience helped me to gradually come back to believing again. Jane and Matt – my stepparents – are my rocks in life. I owe them my new self, or, rather, the return of my old happy before-the-horror-self. I remember and I mourn, I often cry, but now mostly because of happy memories. I have more of those, you know, and the rest is still here in my heart, but not pressing and as vivid anymore.”
“This transformation came with the knowledge that I wanted to make a change. I was sick for a while at some point. A woman that nursed me in the hospital imprinted the longing for the same profession in me. By that time I knew that Rwanda was in the reconstruction period and the system of health needed human resources. I was going to come back home.”
The impact of positive emotions on the brain and overall health is hard to underestimate. Joy, contentment, and love open endless possibilities in life, they broaden your mind, make it more prone to new innovative solutions.
When you seem to be a mass of dull, complaining feelings everything you do may seem distasteful. Gift yourself with optimistic thinking by identifying areas of your life that usually upset you. Each time your thoughts distress you, drive them out or find a way to put a positive spin on them.
A smile during difficult times lightens the burden of troubles. When you humor everyday misfortunes, you feel less stressed. A good laugh is a luxury, the radiating waves of it break the toughest walls of desperation.
Our social barometers always should stand at ‘sunny’. Negative people continually war with your happiness. Surround yourself with positive, supportive people who can give help with advice and action.
3) Motivation is Another Definition of Positive Thinking
“The desire not only to see my country again, but to be able to bring good – my skillset and knowledge – was driving me in my studies. I followed the efforts of Dr. Binagwaho, who spent years helping to rebuild the country’s health care system. She is my hero.”
“The most precious resource of the post-genocide Rwanda was its people. Thousands of community health workers traveled from home to home providing the necessary care. I willingly joined the rural health tribe.”
Life has many costumes and only by looking at it with optimism one can truly value it. Positive emotions prompt useful and valuable everyday activity. Encouraging thinking is a sophisticated weapon in a battle with monotony.
Building anything requires patience and motivation, both are synonymous with optimism. Only in a state of appreciation you can spark massive changes that can lead to new developments in life.
The ability to stay enthusiastic and hopeful is always located within. Whatever happens outside should not determine your state of mind, for that power rests with you only. So, does not allow an external event to be a disturbance.
4) How to Allow Positivity Reign Amid Chaos
“The health workers were selected by the villages they served. The people of my native village decided that I would care for them. It was the happiest day of my life.”
“The country’s health system has managed to achieve so much progress on a very limited budget. Other poor countries often call this achievement miraculous, I call it challenging. Our dedication to delivering effective health care improves the lives of the poor and that is the best reward we need.”
Do not blame yourself for the lack of calmness, doing so will never bring you to the state of inner joy. Practice awareness of what makes you feel good. Immerse yourself in this activity. Meditate if that makes you display more positive emotions, increased mindfulness, and decreased illness symptoms.
Explain your inner state of mind in writing. If you note your positive experiences, you will have a better mood level and fewer health problems.
We are all rooted to our social environment, meeting people we like and … not so much. Schedule fun time with optimistic people. Positivity attracts more of its own self, just being optimistic will make lovely, cheerful people your reality.
5) Happiness and Success Come Together
“At the end of every day, I am tired and full of joy and sorrow. Both mixed together comprise my life and make it unforgettable. I take both and grateful for both. The new coming day is ever more incredible because of this mixture of emotions and I always start it on a positive foot.”
“I am happy to be home. To lead the life of purpose is stimulating. I often in a state of inward merriment and I encourage myself to prolong this feeling because it is contagious. People around me can feel it and, consequently, become happier from my presence in their life.”
L. is very contented in her profession. She is a link in a chain of remarkable alterations for the better.
In a positive state of mind you can withstand the passing disappointments and pain. You become a strong personality, the only one controlling your inner state of mind. Happy you, develop new skills with joy, that activity leads to success and that all gives you more reasons to be even happier. Serenity and peace are on your way when you remind yourself of your unbroken positivity.
Conclusion
L. confided in me and gave her permission to share her story. She only asked to make an emphasis on the happy side of it, showing to my readers the importance of positive, grateful approach to life. She mentioned several times that love saved her sanity, and optimism of her parents, being contagious, helped her to get better physically and emotionally.
It is hard to overestimate the importance of positivity. The most deplorable and irreparable results come from deeds made in a state of pessimistic rejection of bright and jolly in life. Whatever comes your way, allow it to be, but experience it with inner belief in a good outcome. A positive approach to life helps you to be preserved and unbroken. It reminds you that what seems distressing at one point in time is a blessing at another.
Consider hardships as blessings, rejoice at the opportunity to exercise your patience
I found patience at a crisis in my life… the blessing that greeted my nature – Olya Aman
Only three years ago I used to be so mild and gentle, so sweet and good-humored that earth seemed not my element. My cheerful, happy smile was always present for my beloved husband and baby, my firstborn child. Every minute lived in our home seemed delicious.
All vanished gradually like a breeze, leaving a sign of warmth in the frosty air. I decided to work from home on some company projects rather than going to the office every day. I was delighted to spend more time with my growing family, a second child being on his way.
1) Stay strong when marks of quietness and uneventfulness color your life.
Our third son was a piece of happy, unexpected news. I didn’t fully recover mentally from the merry sensation of being with my second baby, only a year at that time. In the beginning, straggling to be everywhere: keeping the kids nice and neat, the house cozy and welcoming, the food tasty and nourishing — I reduced my restful, sleeping hours to about four a day, comforting myself with thoughts about excellence and perfection of my life.
In three months I felt as if I was groping forward a few steps in my daily life and strolling backward with increasing speed. The little one cried almost every night with no obvious reason. I often lost my temper with my four-year-old, expecting him to be always handy and ready to help in any possible way with kids and with things around the house.
The growing family forced my husband to accept an offer of higher pay and longer absence from home, often being away on his business trips for weeks in a row. Left alone with kids I could not find energy enough to keep my old acquaintances and friends. I was busy and very lonely.
Patience — a lifelong spiritual practice. Do not let time rob you of your brightness, but let it add depth to your personality. Get skilled at pulling the ropes and handling the ribbons of your emotional strength, so you can control your life with all its waiting, watching, and knowing time.
2) Fight snappy conduct that is stealing out with noiseless distracting footsteps.
I kept reproaching myself for lack of attention to my husband and kids. I knew that I needed to be careful about how I dealt with those about me. Too often I ended up snappish in my manner.
The atmosphere at home became suffocating. I and my husband took what seemed to us a strict line of duty: him — providing for the wellbeing of our family, and I — devoting myself fully to the kids. And although our generous impulses had the best intentions, the outcome didn’t provide lasting happiness.
Patience — a way to transform frustration. In this blissful state, you grow familiar and confidential with your beloved people. You have a larger and more loving view when determining the right word and action.
3) Withstand frugal life and hardships.
I was aching to the distant time of those happy days when my husband was at home every night, lifting the weight of troubles by his help and loving support. The tears I shed on the occasion of his coming home from another business trip caused the sacred emotional transformation. A feeble stream of our family life needed to be revived anew, and the only solution was to reunite our family, sacrificing some pleasant but unnecessary luxuries on the way.
My husband decided to go back to his old employment with lower pay and higher healthy, meaningful time spent with his family. With each day at home and each family dinner, the healthy and benign atmosphere was coming back to the house, the chores hanged lighter on my hands.
Patience — a re-attuning to intuition. It is a way to be happy when alive and breathing, even though life may seem hard and frustrations pressing. Without patience you feel like the little tottering, stumbling, clutching child that cries bitterly when left without promised candy.
4) Feel radiance from a disappointing fall.
We abandoned our expensive car for a cheaper and a trifle less comfortable one and our pompous yearly vacations for a lovely countryside escape. When a chain of unlucky events at my husband’s work culminated in his losing the position, we didn’t despair. We lived out of our humble savings and occasional company commissions that I still received now and then.
My husband freed up from the necessity to go every day to the office finally could devote his time to his music experiments. He used to compose wonderful pieces when in college. His hobby didn’t excite much approval from his parents, and he abandoned it almost completely during the years of his company work.
Patience — a way to respond to setbacks and failure. It teaches you to turn your thoughts swiftly upon every blessing in your life, so you stop pitying yourself and fight for your place under this sun. You gather waiting, watching, and knowing skills — and reflect the wise acceptance of the inevitable, and respond to disappointment with grace.
5) Attempt to get to a distant glimmer of perfection.
My husband was shutting himself up in his study at night, interrupting his work for rounds with our crying son. The little creature grew quieter with time, sensing my increasing tranquility. I had my full night’s sleep thanks to my husband’s loving help. Our older son got much attached to his father with his bedtime stories and childish fighting games.
Sometimes the artistic progress was dishearteningly slow. Producing music, though, became more familiar with each failing attempt at reaching the desired effect. I believed in his talent and future success. I encouraged his persistent work.
Patience — a high tolerance for delay. You feel perfect timing for implementing your ideas. For people deprived of patience, it is hard to begin any project, the prospects seem vague, tangled, chaotic and the entire process exceedingly disturbing.
6) Delay gratification. It’ll make the achievement sweeter.
The daily treadmill of our home life was sweet and enchanting, notwithstanding the portioned to us hardships. I liked to see my husband, to hear him about the place and at his music work.
One year left us with a feeling that we’ve accomplished a lot of good for our family, which no money could buy. The second year brought the first small yet increasingly delightful music projects. My husband and a few of his college friends got back together and created a small-movie company.
Patience — an ability to delay gratification. Once you find enough of it within yourself you develop a sensuous susceptibility to timing. You recognize the perfect moment for each important step in your life, and if you feel that time is not right — you can wait without frustration.
7) Avoid procrastination and lend yourself to fulfilling your dream.
All three of their movies presented at the festivals didn’t gain recognition. My husband became an instigator and a powerful motivator for his small company lot. They often got together at our family dinner table to discuss future projects and share the inspirational vibe between them.
His music grew strange, turbulent and insistent, soft and plaintive — and the movie they produced with not much money but with great blissful inspiration became a winner.
Patience — a way to greater inward wisdom. Take the wiser part of grasping at every opportunity to use the capacity to tolerate suffering, and with steady tread go to every trial on the way to your dream.
Conclusion
Patience — active, powerful state. Life without patience is an eternity of torture. Patience thrashes reason into you and evokes absolute devotion to the life itself with everything that makes this experience fascinating.
This is a great practice of compassion. With it, you can always find a way to a non-irritable and non-hostile place within yourself.
Never be entreated to leave this peaceful place. All fears, and hopes, and wild emotions subside and do not jostle and chase each other through your mind when you redeem your ability to tolerate and endure.
To linger here or to feel that you belong… – Olya Aman
Introduction
T. is a lean, long-backed, large-headed Lebanese, with surly tones of his voice and coarse features of his face. We scour the country together every now and then: I – on my feet and he – on his wheels. His wheelchair is a speedy little beast, accelerated by his mighty hands and skillfully maneuvered by his flexible torso.
T. is my dear friend. I can drop a curtsy each time I see him hurrying to greet me in his very wealthy manner. You would never believe looking at his expressive and full of exhilarating energy face, that death had been hovering over him just three years ago.
1) A Rushing Torrent of Grateful Feelings
The dark night in T.’s life crept slowly on, unexpected and unwelcomed. The sun rose and sank, and he was dwindling away beneath the dry and wasting heat of fever, trying to understand the reasons why he was still alive…
A weak, thin, and pallid face was looking at him from the multi-squared mirror lights of the hospital ceiling. Outside the window the mean-looking portico showed strangers in and out, smiling and crying, old folks and newborns – all colors of countenances and personalities were passing through his painful perception for forty-three thousand agonizing wakeful minutes of his confinement to the bed.
When starting to sit down to his meals, still dispirited and sad, the realization that the chains of grief were the heaviest of all fetters came to T.’s mind. He knew that the mournful spirit he was in would only bring the end of his life closer. The belief in a higher intelligent plan and purpose was still holding him tight, not letting him sink into that despair completely.
T. needed to return to the world he belonged. And hour by hour the drop of every happy memory brought back first feeble streams of life. The fairest consolation came in disguise of a prayer. He applied himself with assiduity to the task of reviving his inner and outer strength so his family, always supporting and loving, could be proud of him.
Every generous impulse and feeling of his heart were acknowledged to bring him back from that low and solemn air to the full and blooming life around. He made off as fast as he could to lay his spirits to the ground and managed to get himself out of the bed and on his wheels with surprising speed. Every morning he called before his mind’s eye a vast amphitheater of loving faces of his dear people: his mom and dad, his brothers and sisters, his cousins and dear friends.
Grateful Feelings remind us that dear people and happy moments in the past and present should wrap us in their loving warmth and console the wounded body and soul. Regret and grief bruise the heart, making things in the world dark and gloomy. These feelings may force hate to prevail, so that the person that is suffering would condemn himself to abhor life and think that it pays him by the same coin. One should love life worse than it loves him and live only by that motto.
2) Life and Death in Opposition
The beauty beyond the tomb, when it is accepted in the very heart, can shed a gentle glow upon life and bring a quiet happiness. T. didn’t make a coffin of his heart and sealed it away. He didn’t let his life be buried in the pages of a death book. The gift of life is enormous and the only way to make an effort to pay back for it is to try your utmost to live to the fullest contentment, so that the bliss of your love towards the world around charges it with positive energy.
The contradictory emotions T. felt brought greatest interest and eagerness to his life. Sorrow still was tingling through his veins, but it raised the rattling exaltation at the every notion that perception was able to fill his senses with. He didn’t feel his legs anymore, but that missing part of his body was substituted by strains of overly agitated nerves of his arms and spine. He followed on the track of strengthening his torso every instant he felt the need to hue-and-cry to the missing limbs.
Comparison and Contrast of life and death teach us that life is a poem and it ought to be sung down to the very bottom. Because to cease to love is worse than to die, and death is worse than suffering. We are sorry for the men and women who forced to linger here in constant pain. This feeling of compassion revives willpower of a soul, and chains of indifference, for say what you will, are the exact heaviness as chains of hovering death.
3) Elbowing Hard upon Goals
T.’s life hanged heavy on his hands even before the turning point that left him without legs. He used to ruminate long and hard trying to decide what direction to set his life forth. Being 32-years-old, he had been poring over various subjects and not over anything with enough time. He rambled at his pleasure too long, mostly spending time in the gym listening to his favorite music. It seemed a matter of impossibility to center his life around fitness and body healing strategies now when he lost almost half of it, but this idea was firmly impressed upon his mind. T. became transfixed with the desire to achieve the heights he didn’t even think possible for his fully-functional healthy past-self.
So vigorous a pursuit of a dream that T. started would make anyone wonder at the beaming of energy that he possessed. He was not ignorant of his own mind any longer: his heart was set firmly on a goal to become a physical therapist working in amputee rehabilitation. He was not mistaking the impulses of his soul – he became a world known inventor of dynamic specific strengthening exercises that flex and tone the muscles. His online teaching courses are empowering. His own experience gives him psychological advantage to motivate people who suffered a loss to set goals and move on with their lives.
4) Issuing Forth with a Mentor Beside
The impressive stateliness that radiated from T. was adopted from his mentor. The multifarious influence this person had on T.’s life helped him to not only look on nature and his fellow-men with positive reflection but gave him a clear vision of himself.
The simplicity of his mentor’s life stirred T. profoundly. This person was happy, chasing his dreams and loving his family. With neither legs no arms he was shining with heart strength and will-power. Every trace of T.’s essence strove to be worthy of the second chance he was given and to live his life limitlessly. He had that example of extraordinary idyll and threw himself headlong into the task of bringing purpose and happiness into his life.
A Person Beside that shows an example of indefatigable hope makes us forget about the despair and misery. Hope is the light that dwells in all hearts. We need to be reminded as often as it is possible about possibilities and discoveries. Life is not stationary, it drives us to new interesting days and when we see how other people manage to live those happily despite any limitations we strive to do the same.
5) Power of Giving Others a Heart to Live
T. still had a realizing sense of his weakness and captivity. But he was recovering his life-balance by an effort of willpower and desire to set an example for others. There was a dash of the divine in it – to be smashed from monotonous and tiresome life in a healthy body by a fall of a tree on a thunderous day, and to be revived to the beautiful and happy life in a wheelchair.
T. decided to never be lost amid a host of distressing feelings and regrets. He wished that something partaking of the unheard-of dream-like life would happen to him. The desire to become a role model for others gave him that spiritual illumination that shifted his life and he was ready happily to face his past, present, and future.
6) Let Only Love to Hold Your Body Prisoner
T. didn’t think that he was more than other people. He was a man like every other man and that by itself attributed exceptional importance to the task he set for himself. He conveyed a message that whatever happened to him was not a run of ill-luck but a fortunate wakeful blessing. He shared many talks on how to accept the past and devotedly love your-past-self and present-self.
He received many compassionate comments on his media channels. The influence which his sincere contented personality exercised was deep and lasting. People saw a humble person just like themselves, never repenting on his helplessness, but actually claiming to be powerful enough to uplift his own spirit and inspire others to do the same.
Love-Centered Life is a masterpiece. The creative force is in everyone and everything living on this earth. Our hopes and wishes when driven by love transform the world around us into an art gallery where you and only you make a choice what to hang on the wall of your life. Make the exposition marry and colorful. Conquer death by the force of loving ecstasy.
Conclusion
Often, we find ourselves at a crisis in our lives. The loss takes many forms: ruined health, missing limb, beloved person that was forsaken… The union of fate and belief can give us the most poignant bliss. And the passion to live life to the fullest is only gaining in strength fueled by grateful feelings, love to the life itself, and love towards yourself. The birth of day is growing brighter, more from accomplished goals than from the sun rising. The purest and most amiable generosity of other people, their truest, warmest, soul-felt teaching of flourishing despite any limitations serve as the greatest power that alleviates the sinking of soul and spirit.
An advice from a genius writer whose masterpieces the world missed to see.
May I Present
my friend A. He is at his late 60s and, my word, in his youth he must have been irresistible. His face is mapped with roads and rivers that only time and extreme life challenges can create. Each line presents a reasonable attempt at exquisiteness.
A.’s speech has a gentlemanly flavor about it – makes you think of frockcoat, stick, and bowler. His sixty and some years had not impaired his intelligent vivacity. Indeed, his conversation could not be otherwise than profitable to me, for he is thoroughly acquainted with the art of coming out winning over the difficulty of getting a volume of value.
You cannot find more devoted to the crafty pen person. A.’s inward exultation at seeing his works read is heartwarming. Although, you must be in a circle of chosen few close and trusted friends to be able to have a glance at his poems. Humble and dubious he never made his words public. I want to gratify his work by just saying that reading those words aloud would have made my lips bleed in painful admiration.
The luxury of this conversation is sublime. So, let us have a real, rattling good time with A. and fix up the book business.
1) Worldwide Known Classics
“There is almost as much charm in a quality literary work as there is in first love. The certainty of success the world-renowned masterpiece achieved diminished all likelihoods to make the wrong choice. When you are sitting down to a book of Leo Tolstoy or Charles Dickens you always have your own say in an artistic conversation. The most superb taste will be satisfied with memoirs of a genius, or the fiction that is written so skillfully that can be taken for a sober fact.”
No need to throw your thoughts in confusion on seeing the vast shelves full of unknown volumes. The classic works are soothing to the mind and consoling to the soul. Their depth and complexity train your perception to see the splendor of the characters that flourish in our society. By reading world respected books you cultivate your mind and develop your intellect.
2) A Darn Good Person
“I need a personal connection with a writer. That is why I employ myself in finding the ones I can respect. If a particular author manages to secure my favor, I will read those books with no delay. The great art of authorship should be accompanied by the true virtues of a person’s heart and soul.”
Research the facts from a novelist’s life to make sure that you can relate to his/her values. Let the life of your favorite writer provoke the best feelings in you. This way you can add to your strong passions a solid appetite for a meaningful life.
3) A Protagonist’s Recommendation
“A book that strengthens my heart and an author that seals my best affections have the right to divert my attention towards some other literary work. This kind of a qualified approval is tended by me with admiration.”
You can bury yourself in the pages of a book suggested by your favorite author. If the person whose opinion you respect offered you some interesting read, go ahead and dive into it. That author lived by his wits and he had proved long ago that he had some wits to live by, so his opinion matters.
Conclusion
The whole mystery of the bookish life is re-shelved by a simple principle of cultivating your reading taste with the help of world known classic books. The best and most talented brothermen share with us their view of life and you can trace that time didn’t change the values that stabilize the world.
Be picky when it comes to the choice of your circle of favorite authors. Make sure you like them personally and when you’ve done so, you can trust their judgment and get a book they consider worth reading.
“Unlike her mother, she loved herself just the way she was”
I met Natasha when I was in hospital as a child, on some trifling issue with my collarbone. We got together somehow. The simplicity and cheerfulness of her nature was the best recommendation for me. Natasha was always disposed to chatter, and I loved to listen to her stories. So, when she invited me to snatch a meal at her parents’ house on one of the weekends, I agreed with delight.
A Mother’s heart
I was aware that Natasha felt somewhat uneasy to introduce me to her mom. But Natasha sensed a kind and open heart in me and wanted my smiling face to cheer her family.
I did my best to not show my astonishment at seeing her mother. But I bet it was all written on my over expressive face. I never before or since saw a woman so big. I was just a shy child and on my asking if there was anything I could do to help her with setting up the table or getting the tea ready, she became suddenly annoyed and left the room without saying a word.
I felt her unease and pain as my own. It often goes to my heart to see people unhappy in their bodies. I didn’t think a moment but acted on impulse. Rushing right after her, I hugged her and cried bitterly in her soft bosom. Often I think I am made practically from one heart and it governs my actions, leading me through the jungle of human emotions.
Natasha’s mother was a beautiful woman, shy and gentle, kind and sincere in everything she did. I realized, many years after, that this moment of uneven and impulsive emotional connection we both felt resulted from our likeness. She, just like me, was oversensitive. Her emotions were like musical strains, too tightly rendered. She had a way of noticing even a slight change in people’s attitude towards herself, and she took it too close to her heart.
That was a magic night. I do not remember laughing so much ever since.
Second Encounter
I left the hospital in a week and we lost each other, being a few years apart and busy with our lives. At that age it was a huge obstacle: I was 11 and still played with dolls and Natasha, being about 21, started to go out with boys.
In my last year at university, just before moving overseas, I rented an apartment with my friend. The kids next door were noisy little devils. On one occasion they were fighting in the little corridor we shared and ruined our shoe shelf. Their mom came out of the door just at the time when I was vainly trying to rescue my boots out of the younger boy’s hands. He was trying to kick his brother with one boot and to pull the other on his own poor head as a helmet.
I was so much taken up by the drama in front of me that I didn’t right away realize that a lady next door was dragging me out of the fighting boys’ way and into her apartment. I found myself in the kitchen, sitting at the table with the lucky boot in one hand and a cup of fragrant tea in the other.
I was well rewarded for my pains with love and hospitality bestowed on me by my old friend Natasha.
“Forget about the little rascals, Oly,” Natasha was the only person calling me so. “They will get their share of motherly affection when I’m done with you.” We hugged and kissed, we laughed and chatted till midnight, Natasha’s husband dealing with the kids.
Loving Yourself Comes First
1) Love Yourself Today
We were throwing tea parties almost every night since then. I used to look at Natasha from time to time with an air of conscious admiration. Refreshed, delighted, invigorated, she carried the world before her by the force of love she felt towards herself, her children, and her husband. She rarely came out of the apartment, mostly busying herself in the kitchen making all kinds of delicacies for her boys. She had a big heart in her rather big body.
Her husband adored her, children obeyed her ALMOST every time, and unlike her mother, she loved herself just the way she was.
2) Let Your Family and Friends Help
Natasha needed to go out more often, though. I knew that, she knew that, and her husband secretly asked me to encourage her. He tried to convince her every possible way he could invent, but being a soft and loving person, he could not say ‘but’, or ‘no’ to his sweetheart. Good enough he said ‘yes’ and ‘sure’ to everything I suggested.
First, she could see neither rhyme nor reason in it, saying, “Why would I need to go out? I have everything I need here handy. And besides, my mom was pretty sound and jolly at home too.”
Her mother died at 43. Too many health complications caused by extra weight. So, Natasha needed to change her life to be there for her family.
3) Take Little Steps
I asked her a few times to run some errands for me, excusing myself by the business of my working and studying schedule. Then I offered evening walks instead of evening tea rounds. Half hour strolls gave way to an hour one, temp getting faster, music accompanying conversations.
4) Find a Thing You Like
Natasha loved music. Her tuneless yet sweet humming was pleasing to the ear. I found out there was a dancing studio nearby. The time worked for both of us and I urged her to try. She became friendly with the elderly woman instructor. Gradually that kind and sincere lady took the place of a coach in Natasha’s life. I felt good transferring my duties to her, knowing I was leaving my lovely friend in good hands.
5) Reward Yourself
I got into a habit of sending Natasha a motivational postcard each month with little writings coming from my heart. She sent me photos of her-improving-self in gorgeous dresses she crafted for her dance performances. It was quite an expense for her family, but surely the one they could proudly enjoy, watching that charming woman’s every graceful move.
Conclusion
Natasha turned 44 last year. I feel like it was a turning point in her life. She always had a fear in her kind heart to have a similar fate as her mom had. Natasha stopped thinking this way the day she felt a deserved pride from being herself. Although her health improved significantly with some weight loss, the bigger change was in her attitude toward herself.
To the outside observer, Natasha’s body didn’t change very much. Maybe some curves got more prominent and sensual, that was all.
She WAS and IS bathing in love coming from her husband and kids. But you see, she used to be affectionate toward herself in a kind and humorous way, with a slight touch of loving mockery. Now her attitude changed.
In her eyes, there is a real, rattling satisfaction. She goes about singing and dancing, knowing how to showcase her inner and outer beauty. A growing admiration from the men and women of her dancing studio and applause from the smiling audience proved to her the thing she always knew but seldom voiced proudly. Those magic words were: “I am beautiful!”
Here is a conundrum indeed! How soon can you solve it?
Olya Aman
My object in parading this private affair before the reader is to commemorate the remarkable series of events and convey the evidence of what love can build and what it can destroy. – Olya Aman
I present to you here a true story with written evidence that came to my possession through the hands and words of the primary witnesses, who happen to be my friends. I intend to preserve everybody’s incognito in this tale, so let me reveal no names, no places.
Imagine a tiny town where everybody knows each other. If you think this place quiet and unremarkable, you cannot be farther from the truth. People here invent the most mysterious crime affairs to amuse themselves. The outcome of this tale proved to be the zenith of one family’s happiness and, hopefully, the nadir of their troubles.
Mother
I was asked to exaggerate nothing and suppress nothing from what happened more than thirty years ago. My imagination tends to people the darkness of those days with additional terrors sometimes. I’ll do my best to restrain from it.
I used to be a night-club, knock-about-city young girl who was determined to teach herself a lesson by marrying a simple police officer and moving to the smallest town ever existent. After the hubbub and bustle of a big city, I hoped to find soul-soothing serenity in the three-story walls of ancient buildings, corner grocery shops, wooden benches close to every threshold, and the grand loving eyes of my man.
Calm and quiet were showering upon me thick and fast. The monotony of my existence started to grind me away soon enough. I managed to hold the rapture of boredom and adventure starvation for the first three years, and the three that followed were hell for both of us indeed. My husband should have known better than marrying a woman like me.
We were living in constant gnawing anxiety. The real reason for my unhappiness was in my allusion to pain. I was sure that my relationship was lacking the spark. I was longing for emotional suffering and physical agony. It seemed to me that only torture could make me feel alive. The grim orchestra in my head was playing about the passion I lacked and the pain I craved. My tumultuous thoughts were driving me nuts.
I droned my days away in that gloomy town. Household chores: cooking, cleaning, a little bit of reading, and dreaming about some other man beside me, some different life endured. I should have found something to do in that dreary place. But what could I find with my political science degree? Too sophisticated for that place I was.
Oddly enough, only fear still kept us together. My husband, I suspected, feared loneliness and to set everyone’s tongue wagging about our private affairs. I feared my son rejecting me for breaking the family and my inner desire to inflict pain on myself and my husband. Trouble was brewing; I was asking for it.
I anticipated some unfortunate event for some weeks before that day. It started as always with a silent breakfast. Both my husband and I were tired of keeping the picture of a happy family for the sake of our six-year-old son. Mind you, we never as much as raised voice to each other. We simply didn’t talk but for hateful ‘good morning’ and ‘have a good day’.
My husband made his lunch, put a few apples in a bag for our son to take to his grandma, and both of them were gone with the usual ‘see you tonight’. At half-past six, my husband came home. I warmed up his dinner and said, “I will call your mom and ask if they are home by now? I will pick him up and take him to his karate class at seven-thirty.”
I picked the phone and dialed the number. Our son was not there. His mom thought we had some other thing scheduled. My husband grabbed the receiver from my shaking hand and pushed me gently aside. “It’s ok,” he said to his mother. He told her we forgot about some other arrangement and that he was at his friend’s place. What was he talking about? What friend? What kind of arrangement? Those questions were whirling in my head.
This done, my husband looked at me in a strange way. The intensity of his gaze silenced me. It was a look of a hungry, watchful reproach. “I’ll find him. Don’t you worry,” he said, picked up his jacket, and was gone.
Father
My family was always unspeakably precious to me. There was nothing I couldn’t do to save it. Bare it in mind while reading this narrative of mine. I loved my wife more than anything. I knew from the very beginning, she was not the woman a simple chap like me could catch and hold still in his hands. She needed drama, and drama was a rare coin in my native town. I had to mind that currency myself.
It was a custom with us to take our son to my mother’s place, so my wife had a day to herself. She said she needed that time alone, and I submitted. I seldom could say ‘no’ to anything she wanted. I usually drove to the parking lot of a three-story apartment building where my mother lived.
Our son used to get out of the car, give me his ‘see you later, dad’, enter the building and his grandma’s flat on the second floor all by himself. This brief trip gave him a sense of maturity, something to add to his list of ‘I can’.
What was wrong this time? Why wasn’t he at his usual place?
When home again, I said to my wife that I knocked at each and every door of this building, asking about our boy. No one as much as saw him that day. She blamed me, and I, half-expecting such reaction, didn’t object.
She was out of all sorts, now saying in her querulous, rattling whisper how she missed her son, now flinging distinct words of hatred into the air, now shedding a gust of tears and scratching her face, now heaving convulsively barely able to talk, imploring me to do something.
That was her niche in life, her long-awaited drama. So much feeling in every gesture — that was my beastly little girl again. I had to slap her on the face to bring her back to senses.
What an outcome from this insult! I never as much as raised a thought against a woman not talking about a hand. She caught my hand and pressed it to her burning cheek. She kissed it, then higher. My arm, shoulder, collarbone, ear lobe — what an electric shock was going through every little cell of my body! It had ceased to be my own.
The desire we both felt expanded into a series of scenes with pain and pleasure united, angry kisses, throwing each other against all surfaces. Bruising her flesh, she was getting the unsettling inner feeling out, releasing her emotional distress. When all was over, she was lying on a couch in dreamless slumber. I went out into the night to look for our son.
Grandmother
My old, cast-away husband was out of our lives for twenty years. He left us when our son was twelve. Not that he planned it. They sentenced him to three years for a drunken scuffle in a local bar. One man almost died from the severe beating my husband was to blame for. He got out of jail and out of our lives.
On our son’s thirty-second birthday, the old beggar brought his shaking frame to my flat and pleaded to have a chat with his son. I was beside myself with indignation, to say the least. I hated my husband for leaving us. Over a year, he was patiently asking for permission to be a part of our family.
My son and I agreed to see him now and then, with one condition, he had to keep it a secret. My son didn’t mention it to his wife. I never openly met him outside. Were we ashamed of him? He WAS a dosser, after all. Or were we punishing him in this way? I don’t know for sure.
I was angry with myself for being silly and liking, I couldn’t admit at the time, but LOVING was the right word, my husband, during all those years he was away. I couldn’t shake off the inveterate distrust which weighed for all those years on my spirits.
That is why when this alien and strangely familiar person asked to see his grandson, I could only stand rooted in the ‘No’ and ‘Never’. It was a very trying time for me. Eventually, he had tamed me. One day my son and I submitted to his pleadings and promised to arrange everything.
Grandfather
I was old and sick and tired of my lonely life. I had reasons of my own to leave my family. The rods of iron with which prison surrounded me were ever-present in my mind. At some point, I felt that my life was at its lowest ebb. Then and there, like a pitiful mongrel, I crept back meekly to my family. For the first time in my entire life, I humbled myself to pleading for forgiveness with all the patience I still had left in me.
I went to my old hut near the lake. I used to go there in the glorious old days when fishing. This shabby place was creepy, just as I was at that stage of my life. But still, those walls were much better than any bench I used to call home. For over a year, I waited for my wife and son to soften for me. I didn’t put my mind in total blank with the drink. I abandoned this degrading habit because I knew it could force me to lose every inch of the ground I had gained.
The day my son patted me on the shoulder and promised to let me see my grandson, my heart gave a great bound. This news almost turned me giddy. The thought half maddened me with delight. I spent the following couple of days getting ready, putting things in order at my lonely cabin. The little chap needed a cozy place to stay. I exhausted myself with plans for the future rendezvous with my boy. I knew just then — I’d lived through all misfortunes to see my grandson, to get things straight with my son, and to pray for my wife’s forgiveness.
I didn’t remember myself being as tender-hearted as at the moment my son brought this boy in his car on that day. I was fool enough to shed a couple of tears. I wanted to wipe away the wrongs my family suffered through with this last effort of submissive affection. All the gold left of my wasted nature, I poured at the feet of my grandson. I keep the memory of those two days in my heart of hearts.
Son
The air was close and stagnant in that hut. This old man was kind but rude, and he looked almost cruel. I liked him right away, though. How can it be is clean past my comprehension even now, thirty years since? He said, “Don’t middley-coddley, there a good boy. Nothing to be worried about. We’ll have a rattling good time fishing.” The old man said I could call him grandpa, and I did. I knew by my childish instinct, that was seldom wrong, he was my friend.
I remember as if it was yesterday that I never felt myself so mature, so bold and courageous, so skilled and manly. I stayed with this wrinkled weather and life beaten person for two long and memorable days. What a blast! Running in the fields, making birdhouses, playing with the shabby little dog, fishing, and cooking our fish soup over a riverside fire.
My father came with the haste of happiness in his feet in the evening of the second day. I haven’t seen him like that before. I was happy to see this change, and perhaps a little piqued too.
Mother
My husband could not sit down alone to wait through the crisis of our life. He left the house that night after we had the most sensual experience. He remembered that he was leaving an anxious heart at home and phoned me a few times, updating me on the progress of his search. He called me tender names, and I didn’t humor him as I used to.
On the second day in the early evening hours, he came home. I met him with my entire being, imploring for some uplifting news. He didn’t have any. Then I gave him a defiant look, and with mockery, I eagerly blamed him again for what had happened. I should have gone to look for my boy myself. Why did he persuade me to stay at home and wait for some developments? Oh, how my heart sank under a dread. It was beyond words.
Then he confessed. He said he didn’t plan it. We barely exchanged a few words those days, and he simply forgot to tell me he’d arranged for our son to spend a day with his grandfather. I didn’t even know the man existed. My husband never mentioned him. I assumed his father was dead. When he came home and saw my worried look when I was talking on the phone with his mother, only then he felt a plan forming itself in his brain.
He wanted to enliven my love for many years now. He didn’t know how to shake that lethargy I seemed to live in. He said that the pretense of searching for his son, the common disaster he invented, the tears and worries that both of us shared for almost two days brought us together. We were a family, at last, a mother and a father struggling to find their son.
Oh, how mad with rage I was. I called him nasty names. I was storming through our house, smashing the furniture. But in the midst of all those turbulent feelings, there was a glow of hope in me. Hang it all; he was right. I deserved the shock and shake I’d got. I was alive with burning emotions. I breathed passion in the air.
The strange march of events during those two days changed the course of our lives forever. Happy life ever after? Oh, by Heaven, no. But eventful, for sure. We made it a rule always to break the monotony and to meet our passion half-way. When our boy enjoyed time with his grandparents, we had our hurry-skurry adventures. I used to tell him, “Remember it doubly and trebly to make me FEEL your love.”
Olya Aman 