Do Not Be Drawn In by Illusions
A reflection on fear , friendship, and the quiet strength of seeing things as they are. I. I Am Back... I came back from London to Poland with a strange mixture of strength and fragility in my chest. At the airport, the first person I saw was my friend. She waited for me with the warmth of someone who chooses you — not out of duty, but out of loyalty. It was so simple, and so beautiful. Not long ago I told her how difficult it has become for me to return to Poland. My mother no longer waits for me at the airport. That absence is a wound that never fully closes. She listened quietly and said her mother is gone too. So we made a small pact — to wait for each other whenever we can. To stand there, in that place of arrivals, as a reminder that love can continue in different forms. I wish everyone a friend like her. But the tenderness of that moment was followed by a difficult night. My 87-years old father fell , and I couldn’t lift him. He is a heavy man, and I am only one person. For a mo...
