Category Archives: Memories

Born in a forest

About this blog, Memories, True Story

“Born in a forest, in a forest she grew,
in winter and summer beautiful and green she was.”
(Translated from a Russian children’s song about Christmas tree)

Somehow I cannot say “it” to a Christmas tree. When translating word by word, in Romanian and German it’s him and in Russian it’s her. And somehow “she” seems to suit a Christmas tree best. With all the glitter and decoration appearing as a magnificent dress.

We didn’t celebrate Christmas in Soviet Union. We had New Year’s Eve instead. And as for Christmas, there were certain mandatory attributes to these wonderful family gatherings: presents, tasty meal, and music. And a decorated fir tree with a figurines of Father Frost and his granddaughter Snegurochka underneath.

New Year’s parties at schools and kindergartens didn’t have angels. There were many snowflakes dancing happily around the festively decorated trees.

Over the years I attended many Christmas celebrations and learned various traditions about winter holidays and about Christmas trees. I learned that some decorate them on the day before Christmas, whereas in Soviet Union we decorated them somewhere in the beginning of December and kept them until the so-called Old New Year’s Eve, January thirtheen. Today, I have friends in Denmark, who are so much in love with her and Christmas tradition, that they decorate her in the beginning of November.

But whatever the tradition, whatever the song sung about her, for me she will always remain a symbol for warmth and love, a symbol for the best in a family.

For all my family members and  friends, old, good, new, just met, yet to meet, and your friends and families: Merry Christmas, Happy New Year, and Many Happy Moments witnessed by a glittering, magical beauty of a Christmas tree!

Picture 1: a two-year-old Santa Claus with braids in front of a Christmas tree he decorated last year with his father and me. The first he decorated in his life.

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Picture 2: my days as a snowflake.

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Friends at work

Contemplations, Discoveries, Memories

As a remote employee, I enjoy quiet times when I can let my brain steam and bubble while doing my job in the complete silence of our home during the day.

But I truly enjoy my monthly travels to the office I belong with.

If on any particular reason the time between the travels to the office is longer that one month, then I notice something, or rather I notice that something or someone is missing.

I miss my friends at work. Without various social and meeting networks one month would be much, much too long. These sweet people are not just colleagues. They are my friends!

I claim that my colleagues are ones of the very best one could have in the world. And I suspect that everyone who loves his or her job, does it also because of great colleagues.

And another claim of mine: any working place has great people, or at least one great and kind person, and most will welcome you if you welcome them.

December Christmas atmosphere has surely amplified this warm feeling of being together with my colleagues. We worked hard on closing up many projects and tasks at the end of the year, but we also laughed, joked, helped and encouraged each other in our work.

This time, there were three of us, “remote ones” in the office, or rather two “children who moved out and came to visit” and one “cousin” from the sister-office in another country. I had an impression that everyone was happy to see us and that our stay had a special meaning. By deliberate “luck” we were the ones to be drawn to open pre-Christmas presents on these days of visit.

The Christmas party was, of course, the highlight with the fun games, wonderful meal and dances afterwards.

I was so warmed and impressed by the intensity of these two days I spent with my colleagues, that I couldn’t stop thinking about this during my flight back home.

Therefore this post, which I dedicate to all great colleagues of this world, whichever job you are doing and wherever you are working. Thank you for supporting your friends at work no matter how far they may be! Thank you for your special friendship!

 

Picture: there is a sky-walk between the national and international flight areas in Copenhagen airport. I usually choose to go below it along a narrow walk leading directly to the gate I often suppose to take, but this time, on an impulse, I chose the sky-walk. And I was rewarded! The whole walk was lined-up with beautifully decorated Christmas trees. Every column had one adjacent to it! A picture was a must! In fact I took nine! And share two of them with you. Merry Christmas and Happy New Year  to everyone who reads these lines!

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Privileged by a cat

Memories, Portraits, True Story

I woke up in the middle of the night because someone was shaking me. It was not a panicky shaking like in case of an earthquake or a fire. It was a rhythmic shaking as if someone was rocking me into sleep, but with rather abrupt and ungentle movements.

At first, I didn’t recognize where I was. I tried to support myself on my elbows to look at my feet and legs, where the shakes were coming from. But I had to stop because my head threatened to explode. And then, I started to recall what happened the evening before.

My colleagues and I had a wild and fun Christmas party. At the midnight we celebrated my birthday. Aha, this was the reason for my headache, or rather, I had to admit, a bad hangover. I immediately dreaded the morning.

Since I lived more than an hour away from our office at that time, my friend and colleague Klaudia has offered me to stay at her place overnight. I did it already several times until this encounter. And as at times before I slept on her guest bed.

I raised my head slowly, to avoid new headache punches. And that was when I saw him. Timmy! Klaudia’s big black cat. I could only see his silhouette in the moonlight, but it was him. And he was sitting on my ankles and washing himself. Thus, the short, rhythmic shakes.

I knew that Timmy started to accept me. He is not a cat who loves a cuddle or a rub. He shows you his appreciation by not minding you when you walk by his side while his majesty is taking his meal. You might think that he accidently touches you with his tail, but this is actually a gesture of acknowledgement toward only selected visitors. And the top honor is him sleeping on your feet. Only Klaudia and less than a handful friends received such a treatment, as Klaudia once told me.

So, this time he has chosen me. At first, I felt really privileged. I had always big respect for cats and their independency. But after several minutes of Timmy’s evening bath, which seemed not to come to any close end, I decided to place my feet on some ‘not so shaky’ ground, so to speak. I moved my legs carefully from under Timmy in order not to disturb him too much.

He stopped, but didn’t go away. As soon as I settled, he got up, searched my legs with his paw through the blanket and lied down. Again on my ankles. A second later he continued his evening bath.

Now, that was unacceptable! I had my wishes, too! He was a cat, for goodness sake! I was not going to let a cat dictate how I should sleep!

So, I moved my feet again away from Timmy. Even if they were slightly uncovered now and it was cold without a blanket, still I didn’t want to give in in this fight.

This time, Timmy didn’t stop his washing while I was moving away. He did it only when I stopped. Then he raised again, searched for my ankles and accommodated himself on them again.

We repeated the whole procedure several times. I was starting to get desperate, but I still didn’t want to chase him away. It might have ended worse for me, for starters. I never saw him in rage before and I didn’t want to try.

On the other hand, I liked this most elegant creature with his black slender body with hardly visible white spots on the ends of his front paws. You could only guess the small white spots at the top of his ears. But the most I liked about him was his character. He not only knew exactly what he wanted, but he also signaled it clearly. His slow considerate walks through Klaudia’s kitchen made any visitors slow down, interrupt whatever they were doing, turn and give him way.

While I was contemplating all the above, the shaking continued. I noticed that I was calming down and becoming sleepy.

Ok, I agreed. “I surrender, Timmy”, I said to him in my thoughts. “Now, rock me into sleep, please”.

And he did.

My sister’s first name

Memories, Portraits

My sister’s first name pours light on her character. My father did well choosing a name for her. It is hard to say what was there first: her name or her shiny character.

Her name is Svetlana. “Svet” means “light” in Russian.

She was actually named Maya at first, because she was born in May. All the relatives who knew about her birth were calling her by this name for almost a month. In Soviet Union, you had time up to a month to choose a name for your new-born and get a birth certificate.

So, one day my father went and had her registered under the name of Svetlana. Thus, all the relatives had to learn to call her by her new name.

My father rebelled the second time when I was born and did the whole thing again: in spite of all calling me Mihaela for almost a month, he had me registered as Victoria. My Mom was devastated. She had to inform all the relatives on the name change again. And the aunts and great-aunts have had quite of few Why-questions.

But today we are all happy about his two decisions and our names.

He also gave us very sweet nicknames. Svetlana was called “svetliachok” meaning “glowfly”. He used to say that she was the bringer of light to him. And he was completely right. She is a bringer of light. Although she is a head shorter than me, she lights brightly every room she enters, even if she might not say anything at first. And then you just get smitten with her warm smile and incredibly infectious laughter.

I love you, Sveta!

The things I don’t think about

Contemplations, Discoveries, Memories

I don’t think there is something I haven’t thought about. Well, perhaps there is, but with this thought stated right here, right now, I have thought about that as well. I know, very confusing. Tell me about it!

Isn’t it amazing how easy it is to confuse and fool ourselves by the mere thought starting with “I don’t think about it”!

Here is what happened many years ago and probably not only once, when I was trying to overcome a heartbreak of a “love crash” for a friend who didn’t return my feelings. After a short break in a long train of thoughts about him, I congratulated myself: “Hey, I am not thinking about him!” After a while I understood the ridiculousness of this thought and had to laugh out loud. This started the healing process.

Today, I am grateful for all those experiences and how my life turned out, because even if I didn’t want those experiences at that time, I treasure all I have in my life today; at least when I am aware of what I have.

The thought “I don’t think about this” reminds me often of the famous experiment: “Now, don’t think of a blue elephant in front of your door!” This flash of memory is followed by a big grin on my face and a realization that both the greatest and the worst wizards of the world, as I experience it, live in my own head.