My father was born in 1943. It was a war then and my grandmother hid from the Germans’ bombs in the forests around Mizil. 

They went through moments of hunger and terror. 

My father told me that the supermarket was called then “La coloniale”. 

It was a store where you could find the main articles, gathered from the colonies.

The candies consisted in candied sugar and the only juice available was “braga” from a Turkish guy lost in that area. 

After the war they all moved to Ploiesti where my grandparents started building the house which they finished in 15 years. 

My grandfather was a teacher and my grandmother was a housewife. 

My father remembers times were tough and he had only one pair of trousers and that one full of patches. 

People worked hard back then and there weren’t many things to entice your desires. 

Love wasn’t shown through beautiful words, hugs, and caresses. 

My father took up the model and “I love you” is missing from his vocabulary. 

When my father was mad, he called me with a look and tone of a canine tamer. 

I came quickly with a look of a very confused autistic saint. 

Our generation has evolved. 

Patience and nice words are now part of us. 

They are elements that feed our children emotionally. 

Oh, and we keep them away from sugar!

Other than that, nothing, all’s good…



Tata s-a nascut in ’43. Atunci era razboi iar mamaie se ascundea prin padurile din apropierea Mizilului de bombardamentele nemtilor. 

Au trecut prin momente de groaza si prin foame. 

Tata imi povestea ca pe atunci supermarketul se numea “La coloniale”. Era un magazin unde gaseai produsele principale, adunate de prin colonii. Bomboanele erau zaharul candel si singurul suc disponibil pe piata era braga de la un turc ratacit prin zona. 

Dupa razboi s-au mutat cu totii in Ploiesti unde bunicii s-au apucat sa-si construiasca casa pe care au terminat-o dupa 15 ani. 

Tataie era profesor iar mamaie casnica. Tata-si aduce aminte ca vremurile erau grele si ca avea o singura pereche de pantaloni si aia peticita. 

Se muncea mult pe vremea aia si nici nu erau prea multe sa-ti rascoleasca dorintele. 

Dragostea nu era aratata prin cuvinte frumoase, imbratisari si mangaieri. 

Tata a preluat modelul si “te iubesc” ii lipseste din vocabular. 

Cand tata era suparat ma chema la el cu o privire si o voce de dresor canin. 

Veneam repede cu o fata de sfant autist neintelegand ce-am facut.

Generatia noastra a evoluat. 

Rabdarea si vorbele frumoase ne-au intrat in gura. 

Sunte elemente cu care ne hranim emotional copiii. 

A, si nu le mai dam zahar!

In rest, nimic, toate bune…

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