I was doing such a good job protecting myself from covid19 for the last 3 years. But I had to go on a business trip for few days, I met tons of people and I came home with covid.
I was very ill for two days (almost 39 C & severe headaches). Today is the day number 5 of the illness and I am feeling already much better.
Luckily I have been vaccined 3x so far, so I hope that the worst part of the illness is behind me.
I have a friend whose teenage daughter died of cancer few years ago. When talking to her for the first time after the death of her child, she told me: "The most terrible thing that can happen, has already happened. And now I am just not afraid of anything any more."
I am not comparing my childlessness to the loss of friend's child.
But only recently I thought about our conversation again and I realized, how devastating the childlessness was for me. In how many different ways it affected my life. I could say just the same.
The most terrible thing that can happen, has already happened. And now I am just not afraid of anything any more.
It is a rainy Saturday and it is lovely to have time for reading the stories on World Childless Week.
I love Rianna's video story:
https://worldchildlessweek.net/mon-12-2022/nothing-could-have-prepared-me-for-this-sudden-silence
Exactly, nobody should go through this alone!
Our stories:
https://worldchildlessweek.net/our-stories-2022
My story "The letter to you":
https://worldchildlessweek.net/mon-12-2022/a-letter-to-you
I have just come back from a lovely week in Dalmatia with my husband. I know many of you love seeing my holiday photos, so I am sharing my favourite three photos with you.
One day we went on a walk around Lovište, half island Pelješac and we came across a beautiful tombstone. There it was written in Croatian:
Ovdje je pokopano moje milo zlato, koje preminulo od kužne bolesti na 5.11.1918. Ožalošćeni otac Marko Popović postavi
Translation would be:
My sweet girl, who died of infectious disease on November 5, 1918, is buried here. Grieving father Marko Popović
(moje milo zlato / is such a beautiful expression, I can't translate it good enough).
We were admiring this beautiful tomb in the most wonderful nature you can imagine in silence. I was thinking about all the sadness that there once was. And how everything ends, also sadness.
We were alone on that spot when suddenly an old couple came along. The man told us that he is a nephew (or great-nephew) of a girl who is burried there. Her name was Ursula Popović, she died when 11.
***
Second photo: our beach in Pelješac, opposite is town Korčula, island Korčula (according to some theories Marco Polo was born here).
Third photo: island Hvar, view from the balcony of our rented apartment.
First of all: thank you to all of you, my dear readers, who took time to leave a condolences message / email. They meant the world to me in those difficult times.
The first three photos were taken on a difficult day, I had troubles concentrating at work so I just took a day off work and took a bus ride to spend a lovely day at Lake Bohinj (which is by the way my favourite place of all). I was swimming whole day, the alpine lake is crystal clear and warm.
I read this book: https://www.bookdepository.com/Comfort-Book-Matt-Haig/9781786898296 and I liked it a lot. It was a beautiful gift from a friend of mine.
The third photo: Lake Bled. I stepped out of the bus just to take this photo, just before the storm came.
I can't do anything about changing the past. What I can do is to find energy to pack my things and go to the nature at least for a whole day... to see how many beautiful things this world offers. To forget the sadness just for a day.
I can't do anything more to help the older nephew. What I can do is to help the younger nephew and my husband. Few days ago I invited them for a beautiful long hike to the forest plateau Pokljuka (above those two lakes).
I am very sad.
My husband is heartbroken.
His nephew died.
Suicide.
I met him when he was not even 9 years old. He was such a perfect little boy.
I loved him for 20 years (and so did everyone in the family).
I will never forget the last sentences that I had with him, two days before he died. Could have I noticed something? If I sensed that something was wrong, could I say something that would make the difference?
The nephew was a wise old soul. I am sharing with you a beautiful birthday email that he sent to my husband when he was only 11. I kept two letters from his childhood, they are both priceless.
"Happy birthday to you. I wish you many happy years and may as many of them as possible be with you Klara and all those you love. Love Klara because she is a good woman and she loves you too. May you be accompanied by kind people, love, warmth and joy. May God be with you and protect you and shower you with happiness."
Peaceful eternal dreams, dear nephew.
***
On a photo: it is a mountain in Julian Alps, just over 2.000 meters high. We went hiking there yesterday, we invited also the younger nephew (who lost his brother). Despite all the sadness, it was a beautiful trekking.
