Joseph the Strong


First picture is of Joseph around one years old.

Second picture is of Joseph and Flavius.

Third picture is of Joseph and his wife Dana, this year:)

This particular blog is going to be emotionally very hard for me and you’ll find out soon why.

Between Delia and Joseph my mom lost another boy. He lived only five minutes after delivery due to heart complications.

Born the sixth child, I had a particular fondness for Joseph due to his sweet and humble nature. He did his very best not to cause problems into an already tumultuous environment and kept very quiet and out-of-the-way, often going without food until I would arrive from school around 2 pm. I would ask him if he ate and with the sweetest tone he would responded:


“How come?”

“I didn’t want to bother mom.”

By now, due to the tole the pregnancies and the abuse from her husband took on her, my mother was very distant and moody. Thus, Joseph became my child and he started calling me “mommy” which made my heart radiate with love. I had a fearsome protective instinct over Joseph that pushed me into action. In my own way, I stood up for my younger siblings including my mother, in an effort to protect them. I felt responsible somehow for their safety. I was not 100% successful but something snapped in me one particular afternoon while on my way back from school. I was around twelve-years-old and Joseph around four-years old. I heard his painful cries all the way from the court yard; since it was warm outside the windows were open. The distance between me and him has never been as long as that particular day while I ran up the stairs and into the hallway of our apartment, where little Joseph had shrunk into a fetal position protecting his head with his little arms while my father hit him violently. Like a lioness seeing her cub in danger, and without hesitation, I ran between them covering his little body with mine, taking the hits for him. Shocked my father stopped- he had a weakness for his girls- and began yelling insults at me. I stood and faced him, chest high, gaze fixed into his with great determination refusing to move. I saw my father hesitate. Silently I was screaming at him: “Over my dead body.” Joseph was my child and suddenly my father became my enemy. I was determined to protect what was mine, no matter how big the enemy in front of me seemed. Even his slaps over my face and head or his crude insults didn’t make me flinch once as I turned my fixed gaze back at him, not one tear found in my eyes, simultaneously protecting Joseph behind me. Long enough I’ve witnessed this abuse without doing something about it. Long enough. From that day on a verbal war began between my father and I. For my remaining years in Romania I was the middle man in many circumstances. Also, from that day on all the twigs my father picked on his way home from work I secretly broke and got rid of.

It broke my heart when I had to leave Romania, after I married and today I just realized, leaving Joseph exposed and unprotected was a huge reason why. I felt secretly guilty about that for years.

Once gone, I heard Joseph and my younger brothers’s abuse doubled. Like I previously wrote, Marius had a very hard time through adolescence. I guess its as the saying goes: “Monkey see, monkey do.” Once that phase passed, Marius changed.

Joseph didn’t find refuge from the abuse until he entered college in Arad. I believe for a period of time he lived with Alin, who also went to collage, graduated and worked in Arad for many years before moving to Germany. Iosif also found refuge in the home of a young Christian family who sort of adopted him and cared for him greatly. Dana, who later on became his wife was the lady’s younger sister and that’s how they met:)

Joseph graduated college as an engineer and now works in a company run by his brother-in-law. Dana and Joseph have three fantastic children, one of them looks exactly like him. He’s involved in church ministry working with kids and even though it took him around five or six years, he built their home brick by brick, spending hundreds of hours in rain, cold and hot weather to finish. He pretty much built that house all by himself and they moved in it this year:)

With the exception of Alin, all my brother were and still are avid soccer lovers, spending many hours in the dust and confined apartment court yard playing.

Life was not easy for Joseph but God sure blessed him, just like he blessed the rest of us.  I thank God for taking care of him when I could not. He was always God’s child above mine and God took and is still taking good care of Joseph.

I could call him Joseph the Builder, but I think I’ll call him Joseph the Strong.

Delia the Beautiful


First picture-Me and Delia (and a bit of Marius:)

Second picture- Delia’s family as of today:)

It’s no secret that Delia’s beauty is admired by many:) It’s like she was made in a field of beautiful flowers and everyone smiles when they see her (or gives her envious looks).

Born the fifth one, she was a quiet and very determined girl, in a sea of noisy brothers. She always had a tenacity about her and pushed for the things she wanted. Spared a lot of physical abuse- my father had a weakness for his girls- she endured her share of emotional insults and came out stronger for it.

Due to our age gap and my immaturity at the time, I wasn’t too close to my sister either but I loved having her around. To me she had a aura of mystery about her. Later on we had the opportunity to spend more time with each other and I found out, to my utter surprise, what a fantastic artist she is. Her paintings are absolutely beautiful, wish I had a picture of one of her painting to show it to you.

As you can imagine she had many suitors but she stayed true to her heart and her goals.

She finished nursing school in Romania, found a way to get to Roma, Italy and eventually she worked as a nurse in the Vatican Hospital for many years, in pediatrics more precisely. There she cared for many critical cases, tirelessly pulling many long hours as well as night shifts. In Italy she met and married her love, Sami and together they have two children. Their wedding was absolutely amazing and I had the privilege to be there with Chet:)

Last year they moved back in Romania and built their house, a big project that’s almost done. This year she’s helped tremendously with my ill mother and has been a God sent blessing. Can’t wait to see what she’ll do next. I’m glad to see her happy:)



Thank God for her life.IMG_4696




Sergiu the Resilient

In our childhood, Sergiu made us laugh constantly, thus one of his nick name, “The Joker.” But to me he’s more “The Resilient”. We sat all bruised and hurt after another one of our father’s angry episodes, but Sergiu found a way to always make us laugh bringing such light in a dark world, even if it had to be whispered.

Out of all twelve siblings, Sergiu was the third and abused the most, in a very hateful manner. But looking into his face now you would never know it. He has the most positive and forgiving nature, bouncing right back with such ease it amazed me. I asked him one day how he could do that. He shrugged his shoulders then responded:

“I just don’t think about it. I think of the things I want to do and do them even if I get in trouble. I’ll get in trouble no matter what, I may as well do what I want. It’s worth it.” To him exploring and having adventures was worth the pain he knew he would endure later on. In a way it prepared him for the tough life ahead. He ran illegally into Germany right after the revolution, got caught and sent back to more abuse only to try again. And he succeeded. He entered Germany with the clothes on his back and a small Bible, worked very hard and now he’s the COO of a multi-million dollar company in Berlin, married to Brigitte, a pure breed German girl and together they have one daughter Michelle:) He gives orders all day long and works with employees from many nations, has a house and a very nice life. He’s helped my parents and siblings financially for years. Since he had a few dollars in his pocket he always thought of the rest of the family and sent back thousands upon thousands of euros (or deutschmarks back in the time). He is known for his love to surprise you and pulled lots of surprise visits:)

Sergiu, the resilient:)

I remember caroling with Sergiu and Alin, and every house/apartment we entered Sergiu found a way to walk away full handed with something. He stood in those long nightmarish lines Romania and Eastern Europe was known for during socialism/ communism times, usually taking him all night long during Siberian winters temperatures just to get a few loaves of bread or one kilo of milk or half a butter or few eggs or one kilo of sugar or one kilo of oranges, you name it. He also had the wits to push in the front of the line and walk away with something when so many were left only with empty disappointments. (There was never enough food during that time, and just staying in a line for half a day did not promise a happy result). Sergiu had street smarts and gumption. Still does:)

Sergiu, the resilient. I miss him everyday:)

It has begun- Alin the Musician-


First picture- article in Hunedoara newspaper done on Alin:)

Second picture; Alin and his twin nieces, Oana’s girls:)

Alin around seven years old:)

Alin in one of his stage costume:)

Every year around this time I began to mourn for Fanu, my little ten year old brother who died a while back. His B-day is in December, but fall brings a whiff of Fanu’s memory with it and my heart cries from such precious loss. To divert my sorrows, I think of my other siblings.

I’ll start with Alin:)

ALIN-the Opera Singer

Second in command, he’s a boss in his own way:) A self made man and a brilliant engineer, his work in Germany is appreciated by many. But its his stage performances that define him for who he is. His love for music was know since early ages of his life. He performs on stage all over the world:) Beethoven is his favorite composer. Alin is a ball of mysteries and he loves it that way:) A natural born intellectual it’s a pleasure having a conversation with him on many subjects, but its his direct and honest opinions that puts a smile on my face every time we talk. He has a diplomatic way of telling you the truth about yourself, without the presents of butt kissing, living you hardly confused of his opinion. He’s a sensitive soul and the loss of Fanu (Alin and Fanu had a special connection the rest of us knew about), his heart fractured quite deeply. One day all will be healed.

Alin, makes me laugh in a way no other human being on this entire planet can do and I know Meleah has a special compartment in her heart reserved for uncle Alin. It is a common feeling many share about him.

His love of travel is well know as he often takes advantage of a nice vacation to go visit a new place on this beautiful planet.

Alin and I spent a summer in the hills of Moldova, at our great grandma, where out of boredom we got often in trouble. Come to think of it, it was my sense of adventure that got us in trouble often followed by his threats. One day, we forgot to close the gate and all great grandma’s chickens ran into the corn field. Panicked,  we recruited the help of her neighbor and the town’s well known drunk, but we couldn’t afford to be picky. The poor man, did a fantastic job mumbling instructions to us and after a highly stressful hour or so, we managed to bring back all the chickens. After words, as great grandma came back from the forest carrying a bundle of wood sticks for the evening dinner along side an apron full of freshly picked mushrooms (not my favorite) we acted as everything was well with the world. I’m not sure if the neighbor ever ratted us out, but I’ve never heard a reprimand from my grandma.

Yes, we were quite the pair and Sergiu joined our gang soon after.

Back home I was the cook and Alin was the baker. Boy was he a great baker. He could whip a chec (like a sweet loaf of bread) in no time, but “ciocolata de casa” (homemade chocolate), was and still is his favorite desert. He also loved a piece of bread with tons of butter, and when I say tons I mean tons, and honey. He pretty much lived on that.

I miss Alin every day, but I’m really glad he’s doing so well and one day I’ll get to see him again:)

P.S Alin speaks Romanian, English and German, he also speaks Alin language:)

Next is Sergiu:)