{"id":538,"date":"2014-05-08T22:32:03","date_gmt":"2014-05-08T22:32:03","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.nymagazin.com\/?p=538"},"modified":"2014-05-08T22:32:03","modified_gmt":"2014-05-08T22:32:03","slug":"cand-parintii-devin-un-curcubeu","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"http:\/\/www.nymagazin.com\/en_US\/cand-parintii-devin-un-curcubeu\/","title":{"rendered":"C\u00e2nd p\u0103rin\u021bii devin un curcubeu"},"content":{"rendered":"<p><span style=\"color: #000000;\">Am revenit din Rom\u00e2nia s\u0103pt\u0103m\u00e2na trecut\u0103, dup\u0103 ce am petrecut dou\u0103 s\u0103pt\u0103m\u00e2ni cu mama, la pierderea tat\u0103lui meu drag. Dorul de casa p\u0103rinteasc\u0103 [i de cei dragi mi-a \u021binut de ur\u00e2t \u00een aceast\u0103 obositoare c\u0103l\u0103torie. \u00cen avion mi-am \u00eenchipuit-o pe mama a\u0219tept\u00e2ndu-m\u0103 cu bun\u0103t\u0103\u021bi, chiar dac\u0103 erau de post. Mi-am f\u0103cut \u0219i scenarii pentru revederea cu d\u00e2nsa. O s\u0103 pl\u00e2ng? Ce cuvinte s\u0103-i spun s\u0103 \u00eei aline dorul de tata? Mi-a fost team\u0103 de reac\u021bia mamei v\u0103z\u00e2ndu-m\u0103 \u00een pragul casei mai mult dec\u00e2t de reac\u021bia mea la vederea doliului la poart\u0103. Deschiz\u00e2nd poarta, \u00eens\u0103, am v\u0103zut c\u0103 lalelele pe care tata le-a plantat \u0219i \u00eengrijit erau \u00eenflorite. Am v\u0103zut \u0219i suportul pe care el st\u0103tea \u00een fiecare zi \u00eensorit\u0103 \u0219i \u00ee\u0219i f\u0103cea exerci\u021biile pentru picioare la masa unde \u00eel \u0219tiam de ani de zile. Am \u0219tiut atunci c\u0103 sunt \u201eacas\u0103\u201c, c\u0103 nu exist\u0103 alt loc pe acest p\u0103m\u00e2nt unde voi mai avea acest sentiment at\u00e2t de puternic.\u00a0\u00a0 <\/span><\/p>\n<p><span style=\"color: #000000;\">Printre lacrimi am aflat despre ultimele zile ale p\u0103rintelui meu drag. Am stat serile cu mama citind fiecare scriere a tat\u0103lui meu, c\u00e2nd nu mai putea vorbi. Ultima lui dorin\u021b\u0103, l\u0103sat\u0103 cu limb\u0103 de moarte, a fost s\u0103 aib\u0103 multe flori plantate la locul de veci, c\u0103ci tata nu ne l\u0103sa s\u0103 rupem florile din curte. Zicea c\u0103 putem s\u0103 ne bucur\u0103m de ele doar privindu-le. \u00cen drumurile mele zilnice spre cimitir, mama \u00eemi t\u0103ia c\u00e2\u021biva bujori lemno\u0219i, o specie rar\u0103, pe care tata a cultivat-o c\u00e2nd eu eram mic\u0103. Ca \u00een niciun an, \u00een prim\u0103vara aceasta, bujorii lui tata au avut cel mai bun rod. Am t\u0103iat zilnic c\u00e2te doi, rug\u00e2ndu-l s\u0103 m\u0103 ierte c\u0103 tai florile lui dragi. \u00cen ultima zi, \u00eens\u0103, i-am dus plante medicinale, pe care el le pre\u021buia, le studia \u0219i recomanda celor la nevoie. Am z\u00e2mbit \u00een sinea mea, merg\u00e2nd spre cimitir cu florile galbene de rostopoasc\u0103 printre lum\u00e2n\u0103ri. \u201eTat\u0103, uite, \u021bi-am adus \u0219i rostopoasc\u0103!\u201c, i-am zis, s\u0103rut\u00e2nd crucea. Mi-am luat la revedere de la tata pl\u00e2ng\u00e2nd \u0219i \u0219tiind c\u0103 nu voi ajunge la cimitir cur\u00e2nd. \u00cen drum spre cas\u0103, dup\u0103 o ploaie scurt\u0103, am v\u0103zut curcubeul chiar deasupra cimitirului. \u00cent\u00e2mpl\u0103tor sau nu, acum dou\u0103 zile a ap\u0103rut un curcubeu imens \u0219i deasupra casei mele, pe care fiul meu, Roger, l-a fotografiat. \u0218tiu c\u0103 de acum \u00eenainte m\u0103 voi uita mereu dup\u0103 semne de la tata. \u0218i, at\u00e2ta timp c\u00e2t cred \u00een ele, inima mea va fi mai u\u0219oar\u0103. Sper c\u0103 \u0219i a tat\u0103lui meu, din locul unde m\u0103 vegheaz\u0103.<\/span><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"<p>Am revenit din Rom\u00e2nia s\u0103pt\u0103m\u00e2na trecut\u0103, dup\u0103 ce am petrecut dou\u0103 s\u0103pt\u0103m\u00e2ni cu mama, la pierderea tat\u0103lui meu drag. Dorul de casa <\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":2,"featured_media":381,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":[],"categories":[30],"tags":[],"coauthors":[75],"jetpack_featured_media_url":"http:\/\/www.nymagazin.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2014\/04\/dmdezotell.png","jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"jetpack_shortlink":"https:\/\/wp.me\/p4rsGx-8G","_links":{"self":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.nymagazin.com\/en_US\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/538"}],"collection":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.nymagazin.com\/en_US\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.nymagazin.com\/en_US\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.nymagazin.com\/en_US\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/2"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.nymagazin.com\/en_US\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=538"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"http:\/\/www.nymagazin.com\/en_US\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/538\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":539,"href":"http:\/\/www.nymagazin.com\/en_US\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/538\/revisions\/539"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.nymagazin.com\/en_US\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/381"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.nymagazin.com\/en_US\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=538"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.nymagazin.com\/en_US\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=538"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.nymagazin.com\/en_US\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=538"},{"taxonomy":"author","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.nymagazin.com\/en_US\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/coauthors?post=538"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}