Tuesday, November 21, 2023

(77) Life’s wisdoms.

We have four children and several grandchildren. My wife and me we both had good jobs in life and are now enjoying our retirement. We both attended schools where religion was one of the compulsory subjects until we were both about 15 years old. As for me I did not like that subject and when it disappeared from the curriculum it was not to my regret. My Family was not religious, church attendance was non-existent. From schools I just remembered some stories from the Bible, and, of course, the Ten commandments:

  1. 1. Thou shall have no other gods before me.
  2. 2. Thou shalt not make unto thee any graven images.
  3. 3. Thou shalt not take the name of the Lord thy God in vain.
  4. 4. Remember the Sabbath day and keep it Holy.
  5. 5. Honor your father and mother.
  6. 6. Thou shalt not murder.
  7. 7. Thou shalt not commit adultery.
  8. 8. Thou shalt not steal.
  9. 9. Thou shall not bear false witness against your neighbour.
  10. 10. Thou shall not covet your neighbour.

As a child I used to know them all by heart. Knew, albeit did not understand, especially those concerning adultery and the “covetance”; first three seemed unimportant since I was not religious, others were simply obvious. Much later in life I discovered a poem by an American poet by the name of Ehrman that seemed to me as a continuation of these commandments:

Go placidly amid the noise and the haste and remember what peace there may be in silence. As far as possible, without surrender, be on good terms with all persons.

Speak your truth quietly and clearly; and listen to others, even to the dull and the ignorant; they too have their story.

Avoid loud and aggressive persons; they are vexatious to the spirit. If you compare yourself with others, you may become vain or bitter, for always there will be greater and lesser persons than yourself.

Enjoy your achievements as well as your plans. Keep interested in your own career, however humble; it is a real possession in the changing fortunes of time.

Exercise caution in your business affairs, for the world is full of trickery. But let this not blind you to what virtue there is; many persons strive for high ideals, and everywhere life is full of heroism.

Be yourself. Especially do not feign affection. Neither be cynical about love; for in the face of all aridity and disenchantment, it is as perennial as the grass.

Take kindly the counsel of the years, gracefully surrendering the things of youth.

Nurture strength of spirit to shield you in sudden misfortune. But do not distress yourself with dark imaginings. Many fears are born of fatigue and loneliness.

Beyond a wholesome discipline, be gentle with yourself. You are a child of the universe no less than the trees and the stars; you have a right to be here.

And whether or not it is clear to you, no doubt the universe is unfolding as it should. Therefore, be at peace with God, whatever you conceive Him to be. And whatever your labours and aspirations, in the noisy confusion of life, keep peace in your soul. With all its sham, drudgery and broken dreams, it is still a beautiful world. Be cheerful. Strive to be happy.

 

Our household has not been religious, our children have not been brought up in religious spirit, although they have never been discouraged to be interested in religion.

During life’s struggles, jobs, incomes, sicknesses, injuries, relatives, and as the children were coming, growing and leaving, we have compiled our own “commandments”, our own “desideratas” that we and our children were trying to follow:

(Find good parents for yourself)

Be on good terms with your Family, both close and distant;

Find, keep and treasure good friends;

Discover your weak and strong points;

Create your own place where to live;

Start and bring up your own Family.

These “commandments” of ours have been created by all of us, around the kitchen table, around games, in the garden, during visits and during various Family occasions. Recently we discovered that our children keep these texts, the Commandments, Desiderata and our Family “commandments” pasted on the walls of their home offices. Needless to say, all three of them lived according the three rules mentioned above, and all three of them are happy in their Family lives and very successful in their undertakings.

The fourth, our younger son, doesn’t have such wall, he lives with us in our house. For the last 30 years he used to live far away where he happened to be working: in rented accommodations, in dormitories, etc. He is living with us because we took pity on him, since in the course of the last 2 years he had several major operations: brain tumour, broken pelvis and right forearm, mangled right shoulder, etc. Most of them, if not all of them, resulted from his not entirely careful and steady way of life. Of his friends we are not aware, except for the few from his childhood; he has no family of his own, nor his own place to live.

Being of secretive nature we are not aware of the detail of his life away from us, we do not know about his life philosophy, his gods; we are sure he hasn’t stolen anything, that he is not a murderer, that sort of activity doesn’t occur in our Family…

Physically and mentally afflicted, what is the reason for it? Is it ignorance of the “family wisdoms”, or simply several cases of some bad luck?

Tuesday, July 5, 2022

(71) A brief glimpse backward in time.

 

In August 1968, myself and my wife with an infant son have managed to slip through the crack in the Iron Curtain from Bratislava to Austria. We didn't have any money, nor luggage. We have left nothing of value behind, since after some 25 years of mutual work, we have not managed to save anything, and we both lived in small flats in high-rise buildings with our parents. Kind-hearted Austria accommodated us, fed us, watered us; a kind-hearted foreign country brought us for free to its shores, where it gave us a roof over our heads, food and the opportunity to settle down.

In that new country we didn't know the local customs, nor the laws, we didn't have any family or acquaintances, and we struggled with the local language. I found a job, we gradually had four children born to us; within five years from arrival we managed to build a house, later bought the second... Today, after over 50 years, I am now enjoying a little peace and quiet and am able to look back in time. I started by reading old letters from family, friends, acquaintances and from even lesser-known people.

Among friendly letters from our families and friends in the old country, there was also a letter or two reproaching, even condemning: you don’t seem to acknowledge that you might have harmed the country you were born in: it gave you education, employment! "Don't you think you kind of betrayed your homeland? You can't be surprised that for that betrayal you've been sentenced to two years in prison!" Indeed - sentenced because I managed to give the prison the slip (because I showed a bit of dissatisfaction over the poor state of management where I worked, see my previous blogs) ...

Family letters from parents, grandparents, uncles, aunts, cousins, are mostly neutral, never hostile, at times envious (in a good way): “we are glad that you managed to leave, for here the life has no future! After a moment of hope before 1968, we are diving back into the times of Novotný, Biľak, Husák, Brezhnev, etc.”.

Do I consider myself a traitor? There is only one answer to that: I have NEVER handed over my country to the Germans, as MY government has done in 1939, nor to the Hungarians, or later to the Russians, to anyone! It was handed over without my knowledge, without my consent, against my will. I didn't choose the political system of socialistic slavery; it was imposed on me under the threat of prison or even murder. I have not betrayed my own country; my country betrayed me!

When I tried to do something in my country to improve my life, work, for myself and for the state, for the world, I was constantly threatened, and my efforts were branded anti-state. Nevertheless, I managed to achieve some successes that helped to put my then field of work, and some others, from abysmally backward to quite a high level in the world. Reward? From being abused, laughed at, and denied any progress at work to the threat of jail above my head!

In the country that accepted me after 1968, no one was telling me "what kind of nonsense are you constantly inventing," "why don't you give us some rest", "you don't know it's not going to work and you can't, etc." to the direct threats "if you don't stop we’ll put you in jail"!? By the way, in those last few words is the country's legal system fully explained: not "you will be charged and brought before a court!", but "...we'll put you in jail".

In my new country, I did what I knew and what I dared to do, and when passers-by saw that it looked promising, they joined in and helped – in life, in politics, at work, in family, among neighbours, in sports, everywhere, everywhere, everywhere! No one, no institution, extended its stealing hand on the few houses that we gradually built or bought; no one reached with a stealing hand on our savings or possessions; no semi-literate "cadre" has pondered over my "class origin", nor the “class origin” origin of our children...

I'm looking at the tide wave of escapees in the world and I see people choosing a better life, just like we did all those 50 years ago. Where do they see the better life? Whether we like it or not, that avalanche has been going on for generations, relentlessly, from dictatorships to democracies, from tyranny to freedom, and in the northern hemisphere from east to west. There is no better evidence for the longevity of political systems, whatever the various self-proclaimed, infallible and adored (but inexorably murderous) “personalities” are trying to prevent as much as they can.

For those who were not alive in those days.

  • Cadre was a person, embedded in managerial structures of ALL companies, large or small, who had the right to restrict professional or social progression to persons who did not correspond to the political theories at the time. Usually, a poorly educated man of approved class origin ;
  • Class origin was a measure of competence to progress in society. Preference was given to communist party members, manual workers, uneducated people, etc.; prevented from progress were non-members of the communist party and members of certain occupations (clerics, officials, clerks, merchants, owners of properties, people with close relatives abroad, etc.).

Tuesday, March 17, 2020

(70) Renegade.


Dear Mr. Joseph G., during our ‘phone chat, conducted in the Slovakian language (officially the most difficult language in the world!) you called me a renegade (“odrodilec” in Slovakian). As my feel for the language is not as sharp as it used to be I had to seek the meaning of it in dictionaries:

RENEGADE

-        person who has changed their feelings of support and duty from one politicalreligiousnational, etc. group to a new one:  

-        apostate:  turncoat:  of or like a renegade; traitorous

None of the meaning seems to be entirely flattering, but from you, my childhood friend, I take it as a mere turn of phrase.

We (my wife, myself and our 1.5 year old son) left Czechoslovakia with valid Czechoslovakian Passports (valid for 5 years, I think) in 1968. Two years after leaving we were both, my wife and myself, sentenced in Czechoslovakia, in our absence, to 22 months in jail, and our Czechoslovak citizenship was cancelled. A year later we received Citizenship in one of the English-speaking countries, and we have been keeping it for some 50 years now. At home for the last at least 40 years English is spoken exclusively, including among all our children and grandchildren. Except for myself and my wife only the oldest son can speak Slovak on a primary school level. You put a question to me, whether I feel to be a Slovakian. Having been born as a Czechoslovakian, with a Czech mother and a Slovakian father, the answer to that question is not easy. I answered your question honestly, that after some 52 years immersed in the English language, immersed in the English culture, customs and habits, I feel more English/Australian/American/Canadian/South African/New Zealandians, etc. than anything else, and I feel no need for apology, nor any degree of shame.

     I have never harmed Czechoslovakia, the country I was born in! Quite contrary, Czechoslovakia inflicted a considerable harm on me!!!

A couple of years after I was born it surrendered half of my country to the Germans (& for 6 years I lost the Czech side of my family, grandparents, even a great-grandfather, uncles, aunts, cousins, etc.). Immediately after that half of the remaining half has been given to Hungary (and for the same 6 years I lost the Hungarian side of my family). After the second WW eastern part of Czechoslovakia was unceremoniously incorporated into Russia and a few years later the entire Czechoslovakia was put into the unfriendly embrace of the same Russians, for some 40 years altogether. Three betrayals within a short few years of my life...

If all of that was not enough, Czechoslovakia: 

1. Sentenced (by decree, not legally!) my father from his job as a taxation clerk to a job in a chemical factory, to shovel poisonous salts, indefinitely, with no recourse;

2. A number of people I knew personally were robbed of all their property, they were sent (by decree, again!) to do the lowliest paid manual jobs, many of them to uranium or other poisonous mines (see my blog called Socialism for details);

3. If you read my blogs. you’ll learn what I have done for the State that was treating me, my family and my fellow citizens in the above manner. Among other, I conceived the idea of the world Aerobatic Championship, and pestered the authorities until it came to fruition, at the aeroclub Vajnory in 1960; I conceived the idea  of building two radar centres in the mountains above Bratislava (ref. my blog Air Traffic Control), and managed to organize a great deal of necessary infrastructure; I was – unsuccessfully! – trying to persuade the management of the Transport university in Zilina of the need for an Aviation faculty (it has taken a good 20 years for it to materialise); I was teaching flying at Vajnory, both theory and the actual flying, for free, of course; I was lecturing in courses for air traffic controllers, again, for free.

What was my reward for all of that? Constant ridicule, admonishment, harassment by the secret police, threats of jail, denial of promotions at work, etc., etc.

And if all of that was not enough, my State…

4. …brought against me, in 1968, a foreign army that summarily accused me of taking part in an insurrection, and nearly shot me dead on my way to work (ref. my blog Childhood in Czechoslovakia)…

5. While living abroad, between 1968 and 1992, all personal contact between my wife, myself, and our children, and our respective families in Czechoslovakia, were denied under a threat of lengthy prison sentence. Postal and telephone contacts were monitored, mail opened and occasionally confiscated.

If you wish to find any "renegadery" in all that, it was my country that was doing it, not me!

As the proverbial cherry on the cake, some 10 years ago members of my remaining family in Czechoslovakia publicly denounced me for being a thief, denied me any portion of inheritance I was entitled to after my parents and various close relatives have died,  and, finally, desecrated and destroyed grave of my grandparents (and my wife’s father) in Bratislava, and the grave of my parents, grandparents and great-grandparents in Humpolec (ref. my blog Childhood in Czechoslovakia).

I am quite remote from, and ignorant of, your current civic affairs and politics, and I do not feel part of them in any sense of the word (except for the language, which is impossible to forget, and which I still use to keep in touch with those very few people that I like and keep in high esteem, like yourself).

One detail, by way of comparison.

On arrival in an English spoken country, I applied immediately for admission into my old professions in aviation (primarily as an Air Traffic Controller), underwent various tests and had to wait for about a year for the results. In the meantime, I worked as a telephone technician (at Ericsson), and later washed airplanes and workshop machinery at the TAA airline's base at Essendon Airport. When my application for a job in aviation became unsuccessful (= "application for citizenship still pending") I applied for a job as a draftsman at GM-H. Soon I became a design draftsman, an engineer after a few years, and in that capacity, I worked ‘till retirement in 2007.

As a design draftsman and an engineer, everything useful created by me was accepted with thanks, I was promoted to higher positions nearly every year, and my salary was rising accordingly. As an engineer I started my own private company in the field of electrical design, we were continuously busy and at various times we were employing between 3 and 25 people.

Compared with the country of my birth I have never been harassed or even visited by secret police, no foreign power has ever tried to steal any part of my country, nobody was interested in the political allegiance of myself or my ancestors, nobody asked to see proofs of my formal qualifications (I had none!). All that despite of me being absolutely unknown at the beginning, without relatives, without friends, and for the first few months without any money.

All that I have ever been asked for was “Can you do what we need? Come if you do!” That was all, absolutely!!!

One more detail.

In Czechoslovakia I have lived all my life with my parents or my grandparents. When I was 30 years-old I got married, our first child came soon and I was trying to find a rented accommodation in Bratislava where I was born, living and working – absolutely without success.

In the “West”, arriving without money, relatives, friends, unfamiliar with local customs and ways, we lived for free for about 4 months in military-style huts provided by the Government. From my first few jobs I managed to put some money together and through an agency I rented a two-bedroom flat, fitted with a telephone (for which I was in Czechoslovakia applying for many years, without success).

Four years later we bought a block of land suitable to build a house on, a year later we began building, and less than six years from arrival in this new country we were moving into our new house – my wife, myself, and four children that were born to us over the years.

If all written above is a typical description of a renegade – I am wearing that badge with a degree of pride.

I have no reason to apologize, I am not ashamed!

Friday, April 13, 2018

(62) Hospitals.

As a child I used to suffer from l. h. inner ear infections. I remember crying from pain a lot, day and night. My mother used to take me to an ear specialist Dr. Silberstein, who used to perform all sorts of painful tricks with long needles inside my ear. On the way to his surgery, I used to cry from the moment I sensed the direction. Eventually, at Christmas, 1941, at the age of 5 I was taken to a hospital where a Dr. Kretschmer performed an operation which eventually led to my complete recovery.

Of the time in hospital, I remember little: being in the same ward with several grown-up patients; my father following me to the operating room; smell of cotton wool soaked in ether (?) in my face; waking up with bandages around my head...

When I was about 13 (1949) an oozing ulcer developed in my r. h. forearm, just above the wrist. After several trips to the local doctor, I ended up in hospital, where I remained for about 2 weeks. The ulcer was cleaned every day, cauterised, on one occasion I even saw maggots cheerfully emerging from the puss before diving ticklishly back in, all to no avail. One day, in the presence of my mother, I was given an injection of penicillin, something that was a novelty at the time - and the next day I was with my mother sitting in a tram on the way home.


That was the end of my hospitals until almost 70 years later.

    This time (January 2017) it was with angina pectoris, and during the operation I received a five-way by-pass of blocked coronary arteries at Austin Hospital in Melbourne. The operation was performed by Dr. Patrick Pritzwald-Stegman. During the 22- hour long operation veins were removed from my left forearm, also from my right leg from mid-thigh down to the ankle. As well, a minor non-cancerous growth was removed from my left lung.

After the operation I spent 12 days in the hospital, of which the first three or four days I remember just the half-conscious haze through which I was viewing the surrounding, nurses, doctors and family visitors. The last few days did not last long enough for I enjoyed talking to several very interesting fellow-patients and nurses. With Patrick, the surgeon, I had but one long talk towards the end of my stay, then some 2-3 months later I spoke briefly with him during my last trip to the Hospital for the final check after which, a few weeks later, he died from the injuries he received during a footpath skirmish in front of the main entrance to his hospital. An excellent man!

    At home I felt rather weak and tired for a while, probably due to the number of pills I had to swallow every few hours for some 2-3 months. After that I began to feel normal and memory of the entire affair is slowly fading, now more than 4 years behind me.

A bit of (related?) history.

When I was 18, I was drafted into the Czechoslovak Air Force. Just prior to it I became friendly with a 15-years old girl who lived nearby; nothing serious, mind! While in the AF I was not allowed to come home often, so we kept in touch through fortnightly letters. Again, nothing serious, just exchange of information on everyday events. Eventually, after reading some books, I became enamoured with an idea of one man-one woman for life. Towards the end of my 2.5 years long service I decided to ask Marianna for hand as soon as I get out of the Air Force. I never mentioned the idea in my letters, though. As soon as I arrived home I decided to go and see her. As I was about to leave a childhood friend arrived to welcome me home. After a while I mentioned that I was going to see Marianna. “Marianna?”, exclaimed he, “she’s just getting married, she probably IS married already”…

With my emotions in turmoil, I decided not to see the girl, or her husband, whomever it may be, ever again!!! I was lucky that a few weeks later I met a girl with whom I was dabbling in athletics many years ago, we became lovers almost immediately, Marianna was forgotten, and I have never seen her again.

Some 45 years later I met a friend from long ago and I asked him whether he knows anything about Marianna: “Oh, she died long time ago”, was his casual answer.

That same friend has died himself a few years later and from his sister I learned that one of the mourners at his funeral was – Marianna!

Not knowing her married surname it did not take me long to find her through a string of mutual friends and I rang her on the ‘phone. She was recently widowed, living in a flat, on the ‘phone sounding exactly as she sounded alive more than half a century ago. I asked her why did she marry in 1957 (when I was at the end of my Air Force service). “Married, in 1957?”, she laughingly exclaimed. It transpired that she married some 3 years later! I asked her who was the lucky man. She told me his name, who was (then) a boy I knew only from a distance. So, for 3 years she was single, living and moving about in the same area where we both lived, and we had never met each other! And why did you marry Him, I asked? “Charlie, you know, I really don’t know why…”, was her casual answer.

We ended the ‘phone chat and I stepped from the house into the garden. Deep in thoughts and emotions I started cutting grass as I was planning to do before the 'phone call, pushing the lawn mower from one end of the lawn to the other, some 40 metres, and suddenly, I was unable to walk any farther.  I sat down on a nearby chair, after few minutes' long rest began to walk back and this time, I did not last the 40 metres – I had to sit down and rest after less than 10 metres: Angina Pectoris, I diagnosed myself on the spot.

Three months later, after several trips to doctors, cardiologists and hospitals, I was on the operating table…

Monday, July 4, 2016

(58) Vlasta

google translation only - this is "work in progress" only


I saw her for the first time in July, 1961, when I entered the office of Area Air Traffic Control in Bratislava, Slovakia, where she worked as a telephone operator. The Office was on the first floor of the first hangar at the Bratislava-Ivanka airport. She was the about 20 years old, slender, wearing the standard blue uniform, and was holding a large black telephone in her hand. There were other people in the office, of course, but I saw only her, and she saw only me! It was the love at first sight, for my part I am sure, and I believe that on her as well.
My work was interesting and complicated, I worked in shifts, as well as everyone else, and during work there was not much time for socialising. Fortunately we lived only about a kilometer apart, and were seeking each other's company as often as possible. I soon discovered that she was expecting her second child, and divorcing her husband as well. Her husband I have never seen, apparently he was no longer living with her in their family home. A couple of time, when knocking on their door it was opened by an older gentleman, apparently her father, who gave me a strange lookLater on I understood that look to be as something given to an obnoxious and persistent visitor.

"Hormone" I actually was at the time, She only cared about me nothing. The fact I did not know what to say, I just thank the Lord, he turned and walked away. Maybe if I said who I am, that I have a serious interest in his daughter, but that I don't even have bohviekoľko money, and even where to stay ... Maybe with me screaming and field; Perhaps, however, he invited me inside and povyzvedal more. And it might be said that maybe here in the basement have one room that would revamp the housing ... Perhaps it came out. And he would have got rid of the worry of how to drive away "hormones", because that would be a concern after the honeymoon (although it would probably have been only days ago and already Vlastou would begin to poškuľovať else) fell to me, together with concern about the two stepchildren; and I'm guessing about two three of my ...
About this dozvedanie made me eager to look after our employees, both men and women: apparently it is extremely fickle, Mesalína, that her husband does not want it done just because of the fact that I've put out, etc., etc. Once out on the street to me one of the air force, known Jano n, said that with just walked in front of me and that if Vlastou I want to share it with many so let me just like that. Added to it a couple more character references and other details, and over time I have had the opportunity to know that he spoke the truth.
Regardless of all this was the woman of my dreams. I walked in front of her with one girl from the town, we are only a few months ago. Blogs by bohvieako was beautiful, even the character did not have a "statement on"; What imponovalo me was that she was with me the one mind, one interest in common knowledge.
Unlike me, and again I'm a Personality was an honor to be near her. Priatelila with everyone, without distinction between men and women, with high level as well as with those of others; neklebetila, not bad words for anyone; always be prepared to laugh and have fun about anything. Its a mental disorder (the fickleness, nymphomania?), which later led to the brink of prostitution, not during the first year or two of our relationship in many respects (if a person forgets her penchant for constant flirtovaniu). For "my" times was absolutely healthy, physically, with the exception of a novice decay between two upper middle retained; later, when I heard he was getting married should be a couple of days at the State hospital in Bratislava, but I do not know what it was. Navádzala me to start smoking cigarettes, so I challenged myself, although I have only smoked cigárka; We went along after the wild, but most it attracted cafes. Its "láskach" predomnou I knew: the last one I myself zdôveril, about one-two in front of him I've heard; her two children had about every from someone else, and I had the impression that the hearsay alone did not know by whom. When I left and headed for the incomparably richer and usadenejšieho man in (at least with me) I had little joy as well as sadness that her next to them finally managed to stick to and settle. Much later, I heard that I was being unfaithful to him..
Our love was when we wrote to each other poems: Platonic absolutely, we sang, we vláčili after the vineyards, the Woods, around the city, I'm tall, slim and athletic, she pomenšia enough with slow growing and visible belly.
Dcérenka she was born before Christmas and now we have it and named it Vlastinka, 1961. Around the birth I was somewhere off, I went back up after Christmas. I'll never forget a few occasional moments when no one was at home at the Saints and we sat in the evening in the baby's room and listened quietly odfukujúcim sleeping children.
I knew her family, only once her sister came home when I happened to be there, odkiaľsi and potriasli we have hands. The nurse gave me the same look as before their father: "turn some obskakoš ..."
We couldn't wait to see the end of her postpartum period, and we have it exactly on the day of posvätili and I think even on the hour ...
It was the woman of my dreams in all respects. In addition, it should be up to me to see the deepest interior of the aptitudes to kams to kidney, liver, and the darkest corners of the head. It was zhovorčivá, but there were times when we didn't say anything, only the clock and watched over and over, knowing what each of us thinks. About our love we never chat, just as it was in the air, as is the water we drank and we dýchali: it without a second thought. Even on our common future, we have not talked. Today, after more than fifty years of life in a different constellation, to me it seems strange, but in a way it was, we just lived from day to day, week to week.
A short while after the publication of this blog, I realized that I didn't mention about the music that we love together. It became me around it to some event – one of the many – which I described at the very end of the blog http://karol3.blog.pravda.sk/2011/04/26/17-strangely-prihody-posledna-cast/
The paradisiacal State of us lasted about until the end of 1962, for over a year and a half I've had a lot of work, and then ... the Ivanskom and also Vajnorskom airport. Again, I'm guessing in mid-1963, as well as confirmation of her divorce, showed me and I can't remember what we did back then, they said. I knew that I had to kneel down on the way there and ask her to marry me! Me, friends, associates and even speech defended her two children – and to this day, I regret that I took the nekľakol, although I know very well imagine the misery of my life following ...
Her only about a two-year ma synček did not like from the first second. I wasn't allowed to touch it, I burst into tears when he saw that I print it often in the stroller, here and there when we had a common day off to kindergarten, to walking and such. Dcérenke I liked, and she me, and when we're told in its highs and lows often walks the rare children's speech. The last time I was carrying it, and probably even saw when she was nearly three years ago.
Probably in the summer of 1963, I once came home after the night service, and around nine in the morning as soon as I fell asleep – she came. The key should be, and probably sat in my bed which is now before me aroused. We spent a wonderful day together, and in the evening, dead tired and sleepy, I odprevádzal her home. A few hundred yards from her House sent me home, and I hate to go! I'll come home and on the floor, I found something out, I think it was about leaving her purse. I started running behind her, but I didn't make it. I hate I banged on the door opened again, and the gentleman to my question answered that is not at home, and that was not, or the entire day apparently. Already stmievalo, I didn't know what so I sat down on the edge of the múrika vineyard which was opposite their house across the street. As I was dotrmácaný and sleepy I rolled over on the back and immediately fell asleep there. Given me a sort of sounds: before their house zastalo police car (no label, then had a secret police, such as the BMW brand, only a different color), stepped out of it and a sort of bold Mr. Vlasta Kissed – not quick touch cheeks as friends, but far worse! -Home and car are gone up the Hill disappeared Vlasta. I went home, there I found that it was almost midnight.
For two days we haven't seen before, and when I asked her that where she was when she told me that evening at home, and that the father of her the wallet.
It was the beginning of "minor", which nevier me here they told co-workers, friends, and there a few of which I had the honour to identify itself. For each question answered in the negative, or only with her enigmaticky povzneseným a smile. God, it was one beautiful man!!! One such enigmatické the gesture I have here in the photo. I don't know how many years, even where it is photographed here has, but the pose is typical at the time when pondering how to not respond:

The third year is already made, in two places, with nothing to me even on the ground floor in the courtyard of the apartment in Palisádoch, where he rented a room from one of the earlier baby, for an hour, for two. A few days after the last of those two hours I put into that apartment went that I'm looking for Vlastu: baba replied that from me yesterday afternoon here has not yet been! Finally, an explanation of why I got me párrazy in the Café Štefánka (only a few hundred metres from the apartment) scurrying from the table to the toilet — and didn't return. If you already have been picked up from the table what I have too wait there left, and I went home. Remember the ironic views of some of the regulars, in which it was written "silly simpleton". I didn't feel to be a simpleton! I was not jealous, just sad for me this beautiful girl slowly drifting away, not knowing where to ...
Our only disagreement is just happened at that time: I asked her that if  she receives any reward for her "services". She didn't say yes either, neither, but burst into tears that no-one has offended her that much before! As far as I can judge so you pay probably does not leave. I've never had in her wallet seen more money than I thought that it would be; never wearing any jewellery or any extra clothes/shoes/stockings, or any cosmetic; Once she was wearing the new "šušťák" waterproof coat, very medern and fetching, possibly a present from her "partner" in Vienna.
After many years, I got my hands on a book of short stories, in anticipation of the Prague from E. E. Kisch, or Karel Polacek. In one of the stories was described one bachelor who is about to marry a girl. The wedding took place in a pub, and the girl stayed outside the Hall during the fun more than on the dance floor. Finally, the groom got angry, banged his glass of beer on the table, and that "from now on "you shall be no longer allowed to take your customers to the little heaven", as she was hitherto acustomed; the groom in the short story was named Charles, bride was named Vlasta ...

And once our common friend Šárika me (http://karol3.blog.pravda.sk/2014/12/27/50-sarika/) said that she found the sort of old and ugly to Austrian Vlasta (literally!) and they will get married.
Complete the end between us finally came early. It said that the wedding was Šárika me, that he is at least 30 years older from Vlasty Viedeňák, ugly and bruchatý. And soon after that I said that it is between the US end, Vlasta was, I think, in mid-1965. About the wedding, nor about her new husband not a Word. I told her that I am planning to go to Australia, and then she laughed – if something was so little possible as the road bike for a month now. I am married with a beautiful girl from our Street in 1966, with whom we had known each other since childhood; We went to Australia in 1968, this beautiful girl is with me to this day, we have four beautiful, healthy and gifted children, six grandchildren, and this year we will be celebrating a golden wedding of God will give.
On Vlaste I heard almost nothing, only the track from many years ago one woman from Raca said that blogs by me long ago died. When it was where, how, and why, did not know. I learned that she had died in January 2016, 1987 in Nuremberg to liver failure. Apparently in the last years of life was an alcoholic.
She was born 1941 in Germany (Grebestein), where her father worked for a couple of years. Her life was accompanied by accidents.
Her first husband left her after the wedding. Her younger sister tragically perished in 1969. Her parents died tragically in 1970 with his brother. Šárika, her best friend from that era, was killed tragically in 1969. John m., possible father of one of her children died tragically in 1972. Her second husband died in 1975. With her own children apparently had a pretty bad relationship, probably because they were not sure who they are their fathers (her first husband his paternity denied a lifetime).
I survived without it, some 55 years. I have a good wife, the beautiful children, grandchildren ... If, however, answered from anywhere in the world to come — I came! I gave my wife 55 years of life, I'm guessing it would forgive me if I left her. And if they speak up even from the crypt – Vlasta went I would! I'm guessing I would have it a little bit of patience – what a few months uprosil first of all means in the face of eternity, if maybe upijem to death as she was, I'm guessing I would be allowed.

I can't forgive the PostScript: If you had enough patience for all this that insomniak some read, think that I am an ass – never mind. Love the way I feel, and I understand it, is greater than, is greater than the human weakness of human bodies, is greater than the human mind!

Monday, June 6, 2016

(56) Tears...

This is a google translated version .....


tree creeper (white throat)