I did not write for a while now...but I missed it every day.....like you miss a dear one. Maybe, to use Dr Seuss saying as an excuse, "I am not a consecutive writer". So I do feel quilt...
I shall continue my story... the story of how I got to live in Ireland... It needs to be told. Its part of me and when I go on and brag "Oh, I m a different person today", yes I am, but due to this very past.
God knows I forgave the ones who made me cry. And I m not dwelling on that much either. But forgiving does not erase the bitter past. A healed memory is not a deleted memory.
I do believe in present, as in the only time there is that we can try to control what's happening to us. We cannot change the past and surely not control the future either. but ....isn't it funny how day by day nothing changes, but when you look back, everything is different...
So I got my ticket for Casablanca. It was meant to be a long trip, and my, oh my, long it was. My flight was meant to include change of planes in Charles de Gaulle in Paris. I did not need visa for France just because I was supposed to use the "transit area" only when boarding for Casablanca for "my holiday". (ha ha) But the plan was to exit Charles de Gaulle airport, meet a brother of my sister in law in Paris, give him my Romanian passport, get a fake Belgian one from him, and use that to buy a new plain ticket to London. Well, thats how far I got all right.
Needless to say I was nervous. Most of my friends and colleagues knew what I was up to. And they all thought its insane. I remember my boss was nice enough to tell me "Irina, I ll have the job for you if you don't succeed and you come back " That was nice of her, but I was determined and the thought of failure did not troubled me yet. I paid a taxi to Bucharest airport and here I am with stomach nerves, trying to behave normal (like I had a clue what that meant, I have never traveled by plane before, it was all new to me) The girl at the check-in did not show having any trouble with my destination, but she noticed I am pregnant, never mind my long autumn coat. (it was late September by now and thought I managed to disguise my large belly) I had an answer ready for her thou, in a very nonchalant tone : "ah, I m only four month pregnant, is that a problem?" She asked me to wait, but she did come back smiling and handed me the boarding pass.
And I got to Charles de Gaulle. I waited to meet that guy who had my new passport, we did met and talked for a while about my plan. (I also gave him my passport, he was to take it to London, to give it to me when I get there) I m not sure now, but I think he gave me an address of a hotel in the heart of Paris, as I was too tired and stressed for another flight that day. Not before him going with me to some agency in the airport and purchase a ticket for next day for London (where R was waiting for me) He had his flight back to London in a couple of hours so we said goodbye after a while. I steeped out of the airport and gave the address to a taxi. I was indeed exhausted with nerves, anxiety and worries....
forgiving what we cannot forget creates
a new way to remember.
We change the memory of our past into a hope for our future.....
quotes by Walter Scott, Lewis B Smedes, Steve Maraboli, Dr Seuss
No comments:
Post a Comment