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Sinceritate pascala

Sinceritate pascala

Cand vine Pastele mereu ma gandesc la…

 

EN: At Easter I always think of…

divortul parintilor – s-a intamplat chiar in seara de Paste ca eu si fratii mei sa fim trimisi in camera din fund, ca mama si tata sa ramana in sufragerie, ca ei sa ia decizia si mai apoi sa ne dea vestea. Si mama plangea langa masa de Paste, pe care ramasesera resturile unei petreceri de la care tocmai plecasera invitatii.

cererea in casatorie – Radu se chinuise toata seara sa gaseasca un loc bun in Praga, unde sa parcheze rulota proaspat cumparata. L-a gasit pe marginea apei, de unde se vedea celebrul pod luminat si unde era liniste. S-a asezat in fata mea si mi-a vorbit. Eu stateam pe bancheta mea, el pe a lui, iar intre noi ramasese masuta de rulota. Reuseam totusi sa stam imbratisati, plangand in hohote, deasupra ei. Eram uniti.

lumanarile de la belgieni – rosii, groase, care nu se stingeau nici cand fugeam pe drumul de la biserica, spre casa, imbracati in hainele noi primite de la mama. Eu si fratii mei eram in fata, iar ea, din spate, ne zambea mandra. Drumul ala a fost unul dintre cele mai fericite din viata mea. Lumanarile, prinse intre ele cu niste cleme albe de plastic, s-au topit si au patat fata de masa.

abracadabra – emisiunea a inceput la Pro intr-o zi de Paste, asa ca ziua Abracadabra se sarbatoarea in fiecare an cu iepuri vii in brate. Fredonez cantecul: “Abracadabra a crescut mare,/ Si ani in goana au zburat,/ Abracadabra la sarbatoare/ E darul nostru minunat” si ma gandesc la Geo, la Mica, la Radu, la Ducu, la Iulia, la Marian, la Ruxandra. La Mica.

Vlad in multimea din fata bisericii – dormind in carut, plangand cand vorbeste preotul, uimit cand se canta. A ajuns acasa si se joaca pana adoarme cu oua de prepelita vopsite rosii.

concursul de spart oua – ne alegeam oul favorit inca de cand era alb si o invinovateam intotdeauna pe mama in caz ca se spargea in timpul fierberii. “Nu dai pe mijloc”. “Nu e corect”. “Era randul meu”. “Pai tot cu fundul.” “L-ai tinut prost”. “Ala e de tara, are coaja mai tare”. “Asta mic e campionul”. “Asta se pastreaza”. “O sa puta in casa cand se va sparge”.

moartea lui tata – plecase in Apuseni sa sarbatoreasca Pastele cu prietenii iubitei sale. Glumea la telefon ca si-a luat cazare langa satul Rogoz si ca receptionistul a ramas pasiv cand i-a spus: “A venit un fiu al satului”. Urcase pe munte. Dansase in hora cu strainii de la pensiune. Era fericit si putin obosit. Duminica, la fix o saptamana de la Paste, s-a oprit in Valcea pe drumul spre casa sa isi faca analizele. Urmatoarea duminica asteptam oamenii la priveghi.

preoti – eram mica si imi placea sa trec pe sub masa. Stateam in coada si eram stresata de seria de intrebari a preotului ce va urma, cu mama langa. Mama: “Sa nu minti.” Mai tarziu, aceeasi serie de intrebari in fata preotului de la Susani, cu Adela langa. Preotul ma intreaba ceva, raspund, imi spune ca mint. Ma spovedeste. La biserica de langa casa, preotul incepe slujba spunand ca daca plecam imediat dupa ce luam lumina, degeaba am venit. Ma uit la Radu, Vlad in brate plangang, luam lumina si plecam.

ceapa verde – la masa de Paste de la tata se reia discutia ca eu mananc prea multa ceapa verde. Cioarba e buna, merge cu o ceapa verde. Drobul e bun, merge cu o ceapa verde. Andrei nu se atinge de nimic altceva, decat de niste oua umplute. Radu bea Cola. De la televizor se aud desene animate.

mama facand improvizatii culinare – am intrat in sufragerie si mama ne-a intampinat extrem de mandra cu o piftie albastra. Ii ramasese vopsea si pentru niste prajituri, un fel de Alba ca Zapada Albastra. Oua vopsite altfel decat toti vecinii. Decorate cu altfel de frunze, culese de mine din curtea blocului, in altfel de ciorapi, in altfel de vopsea, pusa in altfel de conserve, toate asezate pe jos in bucatarie. Miroase bine. Chiar mama, mai stii foitele cu pete colorate in care imbracai oule ca sa iasa patate in toate culorile? Mi s-a facut dor.

Asta e Pastele meu. Va doresc, cu aceeasi sinceritate, sa adunati amintiri frumoase anul acesta. Paste Fericit!

EN: my parents’ divorce- it happened Easter evening when my brothers and I were sent to the other room, so that mum and dad can stay in the living room, to make their decision and then tell us about it. And my mother was crying at the Easter table, where there leftovers from a party guests had just left from.

the marriage proposal- Radu had been trying all night to find a good spot in Prague, where he could park the trailer we just bought. He found one right by the river, from where we could see the famous bridge and where it was quiet. He sat down in front of me and started talking. I was on my bench, he was on his, and we had the little table from the trailer between us. But still managed to remain hugged, crying right above it. We were united.

the candles from the Belgians- red, thick, which wouldn’t extinguish even while running home from church, dressed in the clothes we got from mum. Me and my brothers were in front and she was in the back, smiling proudly. That road was one of the happiest in my life. The candles, stuck together by some plastic clams, melted and left a stain on the table cloth.  

abracadabra – the showed first aired on Pro on an Easter day, so Abracadabra day was celebrated each year with live rabbits in our hands. I am humming the song: “Abracadabra a crescut mare,/ Si ani in goana au zburat,/ Abracadabra la sarbatoare/ E darul nostru minunat” and I am thinking about Geo, Mica, Radu, Ducu, Iulia, Marian, Ruxandra. Mica.

Vlad in the crowd in front of the church- sleeping in his stroller, crying when the priest was speaking, amazed when they were singing. He gets home and plays with red eggs until he falls asleep.  

the egg breaking contest- we picked our favorite egg ever since it was still white and we would always blame mum in case it broke while boiling. “You’re not hitting in the middle”. “It’s not fair”. “It was my turn”. “You held it wrong”. “This one is from the farm, its shell is harder”. “We hold on to this”. “The house will stink after it breaks”.

my father’s death- he had left for Apuseni to celebrate Easter with his girlfriend’s friends. He was joking on the phone that he was staying near the village Rogoz and that the receptionist was unimpressed when he told him: “A son of the village has arrived.” He had climbed the mountain. He had danced with the other guests from the inn. He was happy and a little tired. Sunday, exactly one week after Easter, he stopped in Valcea on his way home to get some tests. Next Sunday we were waiting for people at his funeral.

priests – I was little and I liked passing under the table. I would wait in line and stress about the priest’s questions that were about to follow, with my mother beside me. My mum: “Don’t lie.” Later, the same questions in front of the priest in Susani, with Adela beside me.  The priest asks me something, I answer, he says I’m lying. At the church next to our house, the priest begins by saying that if we leave right after lighting our candles, we came in vain. I am looking at Radu, Vlad in his arms crying, we light our candles and we leave.

green onions- at my father’s Easter table it comes up again that I eat too much green onions. The soup is good, some green onion would work with it. Everything else is good, some green onion would be perfect. Andrei doesn’t touch anything except for some stuffed eggs. Radu drinking Coke. You can hear cartoons from the TV.

my mother improvising food- we entered the living room and mum was very proud to greet us with some blue Jell-O. She had some paint left over and she used it to make some cookies. Eggs died differently than all the neighbors. Decorated with different kind of leaves, picked by me from the back yard, in different stockings, in different dye, put in different cans, all laid on the kitchen floor. It smells good. Mum, do you remember those thin sheets with colored stains in which you would cover the eggs so they are stained in every color? I miss those.  

This is my Easter. I wish you, with the same honesty, to make beautiful memories this year. Happy Easter!  

Scoala cu totul si cu totul altfel
Concurs: Lingoul de Aur

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14Comments
  • Teodora/ 15.04.2017Reply

    Paste fericit, Dana! 🤗 😘
    P.S. Si eu mananc excesiv de multa ceapa verde. Nici nu ai zice ca nu pun gura pe cea normala :)))

  • Claudia/ 15.04.2017Reply

    Amintiri frumoase, dar si mai putin frumoase… Am inteles bine? Pastele din copilarie il petreceai cu Adela la Susani? Sarbatori fericite!!!

    • Daniela/ 15.04.2017Reply

      Nu, nu ai inteles bine.
      Se referea mai tarziu, peste ani cand a petrecut un Paste cu Adela la Susani

  • sorina/ 15.04.2017Reply

    Paste binecuvantat dragilor :)! La anul sa ADAUGI si cele frumoase de anul acesta ;)!

    BIZZZ

  • Toonie/ 15.04.2017Reply

    Cred ca e cea mai frumoasa postare de pana acum. Ai scris superb! Paste fericit cu noi momente de neuitat….

    • monica/ 15.04.2017Reply

      Sunt de acord!

      Paste fericit tuturor!

  • Cami/ 16.04.2017Reply

    Paste fericit Dana!

  • Alina/ 17.04.2017Reply

    Vreau sa iti spun ca tin de doua luni lumanarea parfumata Moon in camera fara sa o aprind si de atunci i se simte mirosul non stop. O am pe post de odorizant de camera cu miros Moon 🙂

    • Dana/ 17.04.2017Reply

      Ce dragut. Ma bucur sa aud asta.

  • Roxy/ 17.04.2017Reply

    Nu am stiut ca parintii tai erau divortati,mereu in pozele tale erau impreuna…sau poate mi s-a parut.Paste fericit!! 😘

  • Leia/ 19.04.2017Reply

    Ai scris foarte emotionant, mi s-au umezit ochii citind. Minunata postare!

  • Raluca/ 20.04.2017Reply

    Auzi, dar cand scoti eventual si o carte cu textele de pe blog…sau macar cu un fel de best of din textele de pe blog?

  • Capcana adeziva soareci/ 21.04.2017Reply

    Ai amintiri superbe, dar si foarte neplacute. M-ai emotionat profund. Eu cel mai des ma gandesc la serile la bunici de cand eram mica, cartofi noi si vanatoare de oua :))

  • Florin/ 24.04.2017Reply

    RIP Mica.

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