1997 – A Lifetime Ago, and Yet Not So Long Ago

 

I attended a business meeting with international clients. I was there with a colleague who was born in 1997.

A new (potential) client arrived, looked at the two of us and asked: “Mother and daughter?”

My colleague is a beautiful young woman. Smart, hardworking and lovely. I like her. But no, she isn't my daughter.

Obviously, it hurts a little to realise that people see me as an older woman who could already have a child who is almost 30. And obviously, asking questions like that is rather impolite.

But that's not really what I wanted to write about.

1997 was the year I graduated from university and started working.

1997 was five years before I met my husband.

1997 was also the year I was still in an unhappy relationship with my ex-boyfriend. There was only one occasion that year when I thought I might be pregnant (I wasn't). I shared my concern with him, and he coldly replied: “We'll choose abortion.” (I would never have chosen that.)

---

Not long ago, my mum mentioned my ex-boyfriend in front of my eldest niece, who was utterly surprised. Somehow, she had never realised there had been someone in my life before my husband (such a sweet assumption!).

Suddenly, she had lots of questions about my past. I told her there was really only one thing worth telling her: that I had spent seven years with someone who wasn't kind to me (without going into any details, of course).

My niece looked at me with wide-open eyes and asked: “But why were you with him, then?”

I replied: “That's actually an excellent question.”

---

I wish both my nieces, and all the girls in my family, that one day they will meet someone kind who will treat them the way they deserve to be treated.

I was lucky enough to meet my husband. He is the love of my life.

 

PS: The photograph shows some seashells I saw during my most recent walk along the Adriatic coast, on the Italian side. I love seashells. They remind me how short and fleeting life is. How many living creatures once inhabited them, and are no longer here. They remind me that I need to live now, in the present moment.

 

 

A Summer of Little Joys and a Thought to Share

 

 

 

I missed writing my blog. I missed reading your comments, so I'm back!

I had a lovely summer. I didn't have much time off, but during my 10 days of holiday (over the summer), I tried to squeeze in as many enjoyable and active things as possible. I'm sharing three of my favourites with you:

• Swimming in the crystal-clear waters of the Dalmatian Sea.

• Hiking in the Julian Alps. The photo was taken at an altitude of 2,400 metres. The views were absolutely breathtaking. My plan for 2027: to go hiking more often!

• A photo from my solo cycling trip to the Italian Alps. This is my favourite little treat: a macchiato and a brioche.

I recently had an appointment with my doctor because I had been experiencing some unusual symptoms. It's probably nothing, but I still wanted to let her know. I really like her – she's wise and kind.

As I was leaving, she mentioned how important it is to accept our lives as they are. I said I agreed and that I had had to accept my life without children.

She said she had never told me that, but that she had always truly admired how strong I was on the inside back then, and how well I handled all the disappointments.

It was really nice to hear that.

  

The Priceless Gift of Being Part of Someone’s World

 

I am sharing a photo from December. These are the little Christmas and New Year gifts I bought for my nieces and the other children in my family. I love buying small, useful presents for them.

More than once, friends of mine (all parents themselves) have said: “It’s so clever that you invest in the children’s lives. This way, you’ll have someone to look after you when you’re old.”

But that is not why I do it.

I do it because I love them and because I want to be a small part of their world right now.

I already know they will not be there for me when I am old, and I am perfectly at peace with that.

How do I know?

I had many aunts, but there were two whom I loved dearly from the time I was a little girl. Technically, they were my mother’s aunts, but the age difference between us was very similar to the age difference between me and the children in my family today.

Both of them were always there whenever I came to visit. One greeted me with biscuits and hot tea; the other with a home-cooked lunch. Both listened with genuine interest to whatever I had to say.

They passed away many years ago — one twenty years ago and the other fifteen. Yet hardly a week goes by without me thinking of them. I will always be grateful for their kindness, their love, and the time they gave me.

When they became ill and there were ways I could have helped, I didn’t (and  I am not proud of that). At one point, I was busy travelling around Argentina. With the other, I was so heartbroken after multiple failed IVF treatments that I could barely take care of myself, let alone anyone else.

That is why I already know that when I am old, all these children will be busy living their own lives. Just as I was back then.

And that is exactly as it should be.

What remains are the moments we shared and the love we gave one another. Those stay with us for good.

And that is priceless.

 

Happy News: A new blog: PJ

 

I am so happy to share this brand new blog with you.

https://pjmakessense.blogspot.com

 

Dear PJ,
I am happy to see your brand new blog! I have missed you so much! I am so glad that you are back!! 

I am sharing a photo of the most beautiful place we have seen together—simply priceless, just like our friendship.

Klara 

 

Seeing My Story Reflected Back

 

I entered some information into ChatGPT, and this is how it represents accepting childlessness.

I quite like it!

 

Tasmania by Paolo Giordano

 

I spent 8 hours on a train yesterday and finished reading a novel by Paolo Giordano. I have read all the novels he has written, and I loved them all.

Infertility, childlessness, and accepting life without a biological child are not the central focus of this book, but the theme is always present.

This is the first novel I have read written by a man who writes about these topics.

Here are some quotes from Paolo Giordano:

“A different future opened before us.”

“The absence of a child filled the house.”

“We learned to inhabit another possibility.”

“Our life adjusted to a missing presence.”

“Not all lives follow the same design.”

“The future no longer required a child.”

“We rearranged our expectations.”

“The imagined child slowly faded.” 

 

I do recommend reading this novel. 

Snowflakes bouquets

 

There is something precious my mother taught me when I was a child: you don’t need to buy gifts—you can make them yourself.

This morning, before starting my workday, I went for an early walk through the forest. The air was quiet and fresh, and the ground was covered with delicate snowflakes. I picked some of them and made five small bouquets.

One was for a friend who can no longer walk because of MS. One was for her mother. One was for my mother. One was for my granny. And one was for my uncle’s wife.

In two days it will be International Women’s Day, so I told them this is my small gift to celebrate it.

I love this holiday because it doesn’t divide women into categories. It simply celebrates women.