Brother Termen knew music. He could read music and hear the faintest off key sound. He spent many years as a choir conductor in many churches.

My first encounters with brother Termen were done from the safe distance behind my mother’s skirts- while watching my parents visit with him- as I was too young- maybe five- to have any direct conversations with the man. Besides a ruffled hair greeting and a smile we really didn’t have much in common. I became aware- years later-to the reason my parents switched churches and denominations so quickly. They followed brother Termen- by now a very good friend of theirs- who took a new and better paid position as a choir conductor in a much larger church. And there were the insistent encouragements of sister Muresan, a new friend of my mother’s who was part of the new church- a Pentecostal church. All went well for a few years. I remember seeing my parents leave for choir practices every week, I remember fragments of their conversations, but mostly I remember my mother being happy. Eventually, her regular pregnancies- one a year- tired her body and slowed her down quite a bit, until she rarely left our apartment.

I joined the Pentecostal church soon after I turned 18 years old, old enough now- according to my mother- to make the 45 minute walk to and from church to our apartment. My mother insisted I join the choir and that meant having to addition in front of the existing choir members. It was considered an honor to make it in the choir and everyone knew brother Termen’s high standards. But if you made it, you were in. I would’ve preferred to hide in the back of the church, well out of people’s line of site, alone with my thoughts, but when my mother insisted on something there was no refuzing.

One Thursday evening, after the church sermon was over, my brother Alin and I mustered the courage to go and audition. It wasn’t easy. We were accepted and placed in the proper areas; me at soprano and Alin at alto, somewhere behind me where I could only see him if I turned. And you were allowed only so many turns, otherwise the other boys got ideas. The practices were grueling and very tiresome and brother Termen had  fantastic hearing- he was known as one of the best choir conductor in the region, and he was. He would have us repeat one portion of the song over and over until it was perfect, many times with his ear right next to your mouth to make sure you were not the one messing up the masterpiece. I can hear him now;

“No. Again! Stop. Again from the beginning.” Over and over and over again. But once he was pleased and we heard our final draft, the hair on our necks often stood up from the beauty and perfection of the performance. All our efforts paid off and the result was a piece of heaven, a small masterpiece to be proud of.

When he moved back to Moldova- Romanian part of Moldova where he originally was from- due to some family matters, we missed him sorely. He was irreplaceable. That fact was proven right away. I miss him to this day- not his strictness per say, but his love for perfection and a job well done.

Often times, very talented people are hard on you as they are hard on themselves the most, but when you see how far they can take you, you can’t help it but love them. And that’s how I feel about brother Termen.

God bless:)

 

Fratele Termen.

Fratele Termen stia musica. Om foarte talentat dar si aspru in metodele de practica a unei cintari, Fratele Termen era un unicat ca conductor de cor.

L-am cunoscut de mica- pe la cinci ani- de obicei ascunsa dupa fustele mamei, privindu-l cu ochi mari si curiosi. De obicei imi zimbea inapoi sau imi mingiia capul usor in semn ca ma recunoaste.

Ani mai tirziu am aflat de la parinti motivul mutarii lor de la Biserica Crestina la Biserica Penticostala din Hunedoara- noua pozitie de conductor oferita fratelelui  Termen la corul din biserica Penticostala Nr. 1. O decizie grea, dar prietenia lor cu fratele Termen era puternica. La noua biserica, parintii mei si-au facut prieteni noi, dar usor cu anii si numarul regulat de sarcini a mamei mele, i-a slabit si obosit corpul pina a fortat-o sa traiasca mai mult in casa.

Odata ce am implinit 18 ani, mi sa dat permisiunea sa merg si eu, impreuna cu Alin- pe urma Sergiu- la biserica Penticostala care era la 45 de minute mers pe jos distanta de unde locuiam noi. Dar… cu intelegerea ca vom audia pentru a intra in cor. Fratele Termen era stiut ca perfectionist si nu putea nimeni sa pretinda ca are voce buna. Auditia a fost data in fata membrilor de cor si dupa o cantitate mare de rusine, am fost acepta-ti. Repetitiile erau intense si foarte obositoare. De multe ori fratele Termen era cu urechea linga gura unui cintaret, mai ales daca auzea o nota falsa. Ore intregi repetam aceeasi parte de cintare pina la perfectiune, dar cind fratele Termen era satisfacut, eram si noi. Perfectiunea piesei imi facea sa mi se ridice parul pe mine, si satisfactia unei cintari perfomate excellent punea un zimbet pe fetele tuturor.

Dupa ce a plecat in Moldova i-am dus dorul. Perfectiunea din el ne facea pe restul cintaretilor mindrii de a munci din greu dar cu rezultate excelente. Mi-aduc cu drag aminte de acele momente frumoase desi intense cite-odata:)

Va doresc o zi buna la toti:)

We look older. We feel older. But we’re still happy. We finish each other’s sentences, we’re in tune with each other’s thinking, we must be morphing into one entity. The fights are rare, mostly because we don’t give a hoot about the small stuff, and happiness is valued higher than who is right. We’ve got wrinkles, stretch marks, white hair, we tire more easily and don’t put up with other’s drama…because we know what’s important-peace. We celebrate every day of our lives together because we’re aware that none of us really knows how much longer we have together here on earth, so why fight and be miserable? Most importantly, we look forward to our children’s futures, our grandchildren and what’s to come:)

Happy Anniversary my Chet:) We sure went through a lot and came out better for it because the entire time we chose God’s help- a wise move:) Looking forward to our future:) It should be great:) Love you:)

God Bless:)

Both English and Romanian versions available.

Versiune in limba engleza si in limba romana valabile:)

Communism was its own nightmare, especially for a Christian. But there were few magical things that did happen during those times- a unified sense of camaraderie among the people- especially the persecuted people. My young and naive mind found refuge in the people I was surrounded by. Besides my brothers and sisters, one of those amazing people turned out to be Eddie; a goofy and very charismatic boy, who was forced by certain circumstances to grow up far too quickly. To me, Eddie was always like a big brother- I’m the oldest of twelve- with a magnificent talent to make me -and everyone around- laugh until our stomach muscles hurt.

We gathered often at his place- and by we, I mean a close group of friends all about the same age- to practice songs, to pray and ultimately to play innocent yet very entertaining games. On couple rare occasions we gathered at our apartment as well, but my father usually managed to destroy the ambience cutting the fun-time in half.

Eddie, with a guitar by his side could sing for hours. I was done usually by the third song. We spent cold nights in train or bus stations, either on our way to a church service or on our way back from a church service, either full of enthusiasm or right out exhausted. But our best times were by far at Christmas, freezing as we walked from door to door caroling all night long while singing our hearts out and stuffing our faces with baked goods. By morning- it happened every year- our voices were very sore and besides fatigue we felt deeply nauseated by all the sweets we’ve consumed all night long.  If I remember correctly Eddie got involved with the younger group of children becoming their mentor. Despite the hardships in his life, Eddie kept his sense of humor, usually sprinkled here and there with a touch of sarcasm and a healthy dose of reality. I do imagine him some days talking to the devil, saying;

Is that all you’ve got?

Eddie lives in Portland now with his lovely wife, Mimi,- a very strong woman- and their two children.

Keep on laughing Eddie and never let the hardships of life define who you are. Deep down in your heart you know one thing to be true- you’re God’s child.

God bless:)

Traducere (sau mai degraba versiunea in limba romana)

Pe timpul comunismului viata unui crestin nu a fost floare la ureche. Cu mintea tinara si naiva, ce mi-a dat mie puteri- presupun ca nu sunt singura- a fost legatura strinsa dintre fratii mei, dar si legaturile de prietenie intre noi adolescentii. Un prieten bun, pe care l-am considerat mai degraba ca un frate mai mare, a fost Eddie S.

Eddie a avut intotdeauna o personalitate carismatica si plina de umor, care de obicei ne punea pe risete pina ne durea muschii burtii. Desi viata nu i-a fost usoara, fortin-du-l sa se maturizeze mult prea repede, Eddie are darul de a face haz de necaz si de a vedea o situatie- desi tragica de multe ori- cu o latura umoristica dar si realistica. Am petrecut multe seri de rugaciune sau de repetitie, cu gasca, in apartametul lui Edi. Sau seri pe peronurile garii, in drum spre o biserica-la evanghelizare- plini de entuziasm sau in drum spre casa epuizati complet. Dar cele mai frumoase amintiri sunt cele de la Craciun, colindind toata noaptea pina ne pierdeam vocile si ne prindea greturile de la atitea prajituri:)

Eddie impreuna cu sotia lui, Mimi- care-i o femeie tare puternica- locuiesc in Portland cu cei doi copii al lor.

Eddie continua sa lupti cu inima plina de umor pentru ca stii in adincul sufletului ca esti copilul Domnului si El iti va fii alaturi pina la sfirsit:)

O zi buna:)

Traducere in limba romana la sfirsit.

I was a very private girl, back in my adolescent years and far too serious for my own good. I kept to myself a lot- nothing changed much there- and if not for Ica, I would’ve had a non-existent social life- which I didn’t seem to mind.

Ica to me, was the heart-beat of a certain group of young people from the church I attended. Sure she was more involved with my younger brother, Alin- who sang quite beautifully- but I was her friend as well. She gave me lots of advise when my heart was broken by one boy- my nick name was Ice Queen, for my charming and warm character- helped me get my first job, through her sister Lena and remained my friend all these years despite the fact that I’m terrible at communicating-go figure.

Ica introduced me to her sweet mom, who in my opinion should get the “Nicest woman in the world” award. Ica introduced me to Lena, her sister, who didn’t talk much but she cared for people. Ica, to me, is the symbol of a great friend with whom you can build a boat load of memories.

I remember one evening, after church, when a group of friends walked home together-as friends often do- stopping for these thin and long Romanian hot-dogs (crenvusti), to this new restaurant that opened soon after the revolution of 1989. I was broke-as usual- but in Romania there’s this unspoken motto-one for all and all for one- thing. The person with money buys for everyone. And that person on that particular evening was Stelica, a guy full of numerous jokes and endless stories. Camelia, a soft-spoken, pretty, blond girl kept me company along-side Ica and my brother Alin. In truth, most of the time I felt like a third wheel. I lived too much in my head- as I still do- with my stories and my own adventures, and preferred the company of a book to any socializing. But socializing, is a healthy aspect of life and Ica was smack in the middle of it all, masterfully directing and conducting the whole thing. What can I say- she has a gift for this sort of thing:)

Soon after I left for the States, Ica got married to a wonderful man and together they had three beautiful children I got to know through Facebook- the only reason I’m on that social site, to see my old friends. Today Ica runs a pharmacy and she’s just as bubbly as ever. Every time I visit Romania, she makes me feel welcomed there, in the land I once was part of- and hopefully will be again in the coming years:)

Thank you Ica for being my friend all these years and being willing to put up with a socially distant speciment such as myself. What wonderful memories we’ve built together:)

God bless:)

TRADUCERE

Am fost- si inca mai sint- o fata foarte privata in anii adolescentei si mult prea serioasa pentru acei ani tineri. Am tinut mult in mine- nu prea mult sa schimbat in acest capitol:)-si daca nu at fi fost Ica in viata mea, as fi avut o viata sociala extrem de redusa-fapt care nu ma deranjat niciodata.

Ica pentru mine, a fost inima sociala a unui grup de tineret din biserica la vremea acea- poate si in present, dar acest lucru eu nu-l cunosc- din care faceam si eu parte. Desi ea a fost implicata mult mai mult cu fratele meu, Alin- forma-se o formatie cu Adelina si cred ca Stelian- a fost si este si prietena mea. Mi-a dat sfaturi cu privinta la baieti- subiect care nu m-a interesat prea adanc, desi a fost un baiat care mi-a furat inima- si tot cu ajutorul ei si a sorei ei, Lena, am primit primul meu loc de munca ca vinzatoare de inghetata si suc care la vremea respectiva era la moda:)

Tot prin Ica am cunoscut-o si pe mama ei, o femeie atit de dulce ca merita premiul “femeii cea mai bune” din lume. La Ica in casa am acumulat multe memorii, foarte innocente si pline de bucurie, mai ales la sarbatori:) Lena, sora ei mai mare care de-si nu era vorbareata avea inima de aur, ma invatat cum sa fac inghetata la chioscul domunului Vasile- seful nostru:) Si -cum fac tinerii de obicei dupa biserica- dupa revolutie ne opream la restaurantele noi deschise care printre altele, serveau crenvusti fierti:) Imi aduc aminte ca intr-o seara, impreauna cu Camelia, o fata tare faina, blonda si finuta, atit cit si cu Alin, Ica, Adelina, Stelica si inca citiva tineri, ne-am oprit la un crenvusti si vorbind de ale noastre am mincat toti crenvusti platiti de Stelica.

Dupa ce am plecat in America, Ica sa casatorit cu un baiat tare bun si impreuna au trei copii, pe care am avut ocazia sa-i vad pe Facebook mai mult decit in realitate. Cind vizitez Hunedoara, orasul in care am crescut, Ica ma face sa ma simt binevenita in orasul care o data in trecut am avut si eu un rol in el.

Iti multumesc de prietenia oferita, desi stiu ca social nu sint cel mai cald exemplu:) Ce ani frumosi am trait, ce memorii pretioase am facut:) (Ica e mentionata in cartea care am scris-o si care va aparea pe piata Romana annul asta:)

O zi binecuvintata va doresc la toti:)

Back in Romania, during my teens there was this crazy fashion of flashy knitted sweaters. All the popular girls in church- my only social hangout- had them and I longed for one of my own. That required yarn-which I didn’t have- money to buy the yarn- which I also didn’t have, and knowledge to the powerful secrets of a well knitted sweater.

Then I met Simona, a very nice girl with a rich knowledge to a well knitted sweater. Besides knowledge, Simona had money and she filled my arms with the most beautiful mohair yarn I’ve even seen, knitting magazines and friendship. I did knit some pretty sweaters and I too walked in church with a smile on my face when the finished product was beautifully displayed on my thin body, but like any respectable poor person I was a little behind in my fashion walk. By the time my pretty sweaters were done, everyone else moved on to another trend: sweaters made by a modern sowing machine.

Funny how life turns out. I ended up in Seattle. Simona ended up in Portland knitting up a storm with her beautiful hands. She has a great home-based business (Gentle Touch) and she seems so happy:)

I’ll forever be grateful to her for taking time out of her busy schedule and teaching a young lady the secrets of a well knit sweater:)

God Bless:)

We all have relatives we love or not.

I fell in love with my aunt Olga at an early age- maybe 10 years old- and that feeling never changed. The first time I saw her I thought she was the most beautiful woman- other than my mom- on the planet, and I wanted to look just like her when I grew up. And it wasn’t her extraordinary talent as a cook that hooked me further, but her laugh:) When she laughs- to this day- my world is better:) I love her stories and the way she tells them- clearly a great pointer for the writer within me- and the love towards life that I see in her. Through her I met her wonderful sisters and brothers, then their families and I felt rich. I smiled at their jokes but inside I simply burst with happiness for the love they so easily shared with me. Every advise I got from her healed a part of my soul and I loved her that much deeper. In fact, when my father made me go to Moldova to meet a stranger in order to marry him- to keep me from marrying Chet- tanti Olga had a few pieces of advise. The first ones are private, but next she said;

‘Carmen, don’t worry. Everything is in God’s hands. If you’re meant to marry this boy from Moldova, you will. But if God wants you to marry Chet, you will. Let’s not go out of our way to meet this boy. Let it work itself out.” And it did work itself out. I never met the boy and I married Chet:) (These details are found in my novel:Out of Darkness).

She can take the frustrations of life- and she had a few in her lifetime- and turn them into something positive. Few have that gifting. And every time I think about her a smile gets plastered across my face.

In fact, I have to wipe a tear away from my eyes- tears of joy- as I’m writing about her now. I miss her everyday and I’m so glad she’s my aunt.

I hope this story makes you think of a relative you love just as much as I love aunt Olga:)

And my cousins are just as fantastic as their mom and dad, I have few awesome memories together:)

God bless:)