Yesterday, I talked to my father. As you know, I talk to my parents every week. I was not in a talking mood, especially not after all that has happened in my life
in the last few months. Also, having the feeling that my parents do not understand me is not very helpful. We talked a few weeks ago and I told them a bit about my
problems at home. But somehow their reaction was that I should not complain as, at the end, it does not matter what my husband says, what matters is what he does.
Actions show if the person loves us or not. (With actions they mean that George is working on the farm and at home, not necessarily how he treats me sometimes). I
do not quite agree with this. Doing the right thing does not mean that we do it because of love. Being a decent human being means that we will try to do the right
thing by others. I try to do the right thing at work and everywhere where I go, but it is not because of love. I do it because... it makes me feel good. And that
is so for George, he does the things he believes are right, but it is not because he loves me. It is because he thought that is what you do. It is like going
through a check-list and making sure that you check the right boxes. If you love somebody, you do not need a check list, you just know what the other person needs or
wishes for. My father agreed and then he said “That is true but it is still better doing something at home and treating you not too bad, than if he was an alcoholic
or gambler”. OK, it is true, I cannot argue with this. We did not talk about it any-more. But yesterday my father asked me again: “What has happened, why do you
have such a sad voice?” This is slowly starting to annoy me. “Oh dad, nothing new happened. It is always the same. I told you a few times already. I have been
married for a few years, but I am always on my own, just with some restrictions. I do not have anybody to go for a walk with, to stroll along a river, to lie down
on the grass and watch the stars, somebody who would like to hold me tight and watch the moon with me. I know these are all only little things, but " - at that
point my father interrupted me and said “These are not small things. They are big” And this made me feel better as I knew that my Dad understands me and what I
am talking about. Yes, these things are big because they show you if the other person loves you and wants to be with you or not. My Dad understands it, because
for him, love is the most important thing in life. He went through a lot in life. He was born just before the second world war started. Most of his life he spend
under a communistic regime. He never had much money and always had a lot of work and hardship. However, all this never bothered him too much as all that matters
for him is family and love.
Then my Dad told me the story of how he met my Mum. I have heard the story probably a hundred times, but I always like to hear it again. My parents met at a dancing school. My mum was learning to dance there. My Dad however, went only to have a look at the school, because it was established many years earlier by his father's friend. When he opened the door to the dancing hall he noticed my mum and at first glimpse he knew that she is “the one”, the woman he wants to spend his life with. My Dad told me that he was in many relationships before, some of them long-term relationships and he almost got married to another woman. However, he never had the feeling before which he had when he saw my mum. For the next two weeks, since the first time he saw her, she was “haunting” him in his dreams. He simply could not forget her and that is why he decided to enrol at the dancing school. Actually only to get to know my Mum. He was a bit scared, as the girl of his dreams was very young, just 21 years of age, and he was 12 years older. Luckily for him (and me ;) she felt about him the same way and they got married and then… I came to the world and later my sister. And since then number 12 is the “magic number” for them. They went through a lot of hardship in life, they had their ups and downs, they argued, they cried. But there is one thing about them that everybody who knows them can confirm – these two cannot live without each other. My Dad absolutely cannot imagine life without my Mum and without love. I am very similar to my Dad (my sister is more like my mum – a more practical person), so now you know why I am such a romantic person. Though at some point I accepted life without love, because I believed that I am not able to feel it any more. Later, however, I understood that life without love is a very empty life and therefore... I choose solitude… When I am on my own, somewhere with nature, I can... feel the love... I feel as if I am with the person I love - all the time...
Lots of Wings,