2014 was somehow great. It was a difficult one, as it was my first proper year in London (I will not count the first five months, which were nice, but pretty hectic).
To summarize, in 2014 I’ve worked on myself harder than ever. I took a class in Community Interpreting, I made friends, I got some nice writing jobs in English, which was probably my biggest achievement. I was in counselling for almost almost four months and that was the hardest thing I had to do in the recent past. I ended up exposed, with all my pain dug out of my brain, feeling too many things and not having a clue how to put together all the pieces, to make a whole. I found an amazing studio flat, where I will move next month, taking my life in London to the next level.
Which brings me to the point of this rant: life is amazing, if you let it take its course and go with the flow. At least mine is, especially since I have stopped making long term plans. In the past five years I worked for a secretary of state in Romania, in a museum, I was a waitress in London and a nanny (still am). I broke up with someone who seemed to be perfect for me at the time and by breaking up with him I escaped, without even being aware of it, a life that would have been completely wrong for me. Instead of living the small town life, I ended up living in Toronto for one year and later on moving to London. Instead of seeing the same people over and over again, I ended up meeting great individuals with amazing stories. Instead of doing the same job years on end, waiting for my pension, I got to start writing, learn new things that I didn’t even know they existed, open my mind, mending my soul.
On December 22nd 1989, I was almost 9, visiting my grandma with my mother and my sister, all sleeping in the same bed because there were not enough logs to heat up another room. That was the day the Romanian revolution started. I remember bits and pieces of that day: how scared my mother and my grandma looked and how I could hear the bullets outside, because my grandma was living close to a military camp.
On December 22nd 2014, 25 years later, I was in London, signing for my new flat in London.
On December 25th 1989 Ceausescu was executed and I never gave it much thought until December 25th 2014, which was four days ago. Without having a clue, 25 years ago, on Christmas day, the rest of my life had started. The end of communism meant not only heating, hot water and plenty of food, but access to the rest of the world.
I spent the Christmas Day this year with Netflix and Cadbury chocolates. And some fruit. When I was little, we only had about three hours of TV a day and it was all about communist propaganda. Chocolate was a luxury. Oranges smell like Christmas because they were only to be had on Christmas and to get them one had to queue for hours. I added the grapes because I love them and I am now living times when I can have what I like, whenever I fancy. The strawberries smell a bit like frustration. After Ceausescu died, we could have anything we wanted but not always. My family was modest and some things were still unattainable, like, for example, strawberries in winter. They were too expensive to have them too often.
Bottom line, I was this close to have nothing and now I have so much. I am not taking it for granted, because I didn’t deserve it, I just happened to be born at the right time and because I know there are still people out there living like my parents did and like I almost did. Sometimes, by remembering the past, we are more grateful to the present. And we understand that life can be great, if we just let it flow in all its glory.