\u201cChoose,\u201d Grandfather would say, smiling slyly, \u201cmorning or evening?\u201d
\n\u201cI\u2019ll let you choose first,\u201d Grandmother would answer, and they would both laugh sweetly.<\/p>\n
I\u2019ve heard this little exchange many times\u2014their conversation about the time of day \u201cwhen it will be time to die.\u201d
\nDo you know what they chose?
\nBoth chose morning.<\/p>\n
Because choosing evening would mean the other would have to live the whole day without the first.
\nAnd that day would be sad.<\/p>\n
I stand in the place where, once a year, thousands of little candles flicker for those who have left, but are not forgotten.
\nWith my eyes, I follow my Do, trying determinedly to cover the candles we brought.
\nI hear a tiny flame snapping.<\/p>\n
With my gaze, I trace the names of my grandparents, carved into the stone.<\/p>\n
But.
\nMy thoughts wander across the expanse of a cloudy sky.
\nAnd.
\nI see Grandfather in his deep cherry-colored sweater, checking the orchard to see if the autumn apples are fully ripe.
\nAnd Grandmother, tying her checked scarf and pulling a freshly baked \u201cbabka\u201d from the oven.<\/p>\n
Before my eyes appear their faces, lined from so much life, etched with laughter and care.
\nHands worn from work.
\nAnd.
\nEyes.<\/p>\n
From those eyes, always, alongside great concern and love, shone good humor and the desire to play a prank, to share a joke from the newspaper, to sing a little song\u2026 or in any way revive a sometimes dimmed mood.<\/p>\n
I stand by the grave.
\nAnd beside the sadness that they have gone,
\nlives the joy that they remain.
\nIn memory.
\nNot sick or tired.
\nBut.
\nSmiling. And playing little tricks.<\/p>\n
Every year, in the glow of thousands of candles, they visit us with warm memories.
\nSmiling down at us from above.
\nFor those who have left.
\nBut not forgotten.
\nFor those who loved.
\nAnd are still loved.<\/p>\n
V.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"template":"","class_list":["post-17696","istorija","type-istorija","status-publish","hentry"],"acf":[],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/viktorijos.lt\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/istorija\/17696","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/viktorijos.lt\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/istorija"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/viktorijos.lt\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/istorija"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/viktorijos.lt\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=17696"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}