Irene

I want to talk about Irene. A couple of Irenes, actually. In the summer of 2011 I went to the US to work, to see how is it like to live there, to meet new people and different ways to see life. I was trying to find myself, too. After one month, I had to move out from the apartment where I was living to some new place. There I met Irene. She was a 72 years old lady with the bluest eyes I’ve ever seen. It was August, and everyone was talking about another Irene, the hurricane. She heard that I just moved in the building and came with some home-made delicious cookies to say hi. I find it kind of strange, but I saw in many movies that it’s kind of a custom there, to greet the new neighbors. She invited me over for a tea. Her apartment was just like her, very simple yet extremely beautiful. She had some old decorating objects that made the place warm and cozy. I told her about myself, told her about Romania, about the beauties and the problems of my country, she told me about her life and childhood, and we talked like that for hours and hours. She showed me her photo album but what I liked most was the way she was talking. A very calm and peaceful lady.  “You are a very beautiful woman, I said, when I was looking at a photo of hers. She was in her 20s.” “I was, my dear, I was”. “No Irene, you still are. Haven’t you noticed? I didn’t ask you if this photo is yours, because you haven’t changed so much, you still have this gorgeous eyes and this beautiful smile. Yes, I know that mister Time gave you few wrinkles, but you are still a beautiful lady”. “Few wrinkles?!” and she started to laugh.

                I am 22, she was 72 but I spend many hours in her company, not because I had pity on her, but because I enjoyed her stories. And she had many stories to tell, and I’m the type of person that seeks to learn from everyone and everything. One day, she showed me her collection of brooches and told me their stories. Some were hand-made, some were very expensive, from India or China or South America.  She knew exactly who she got them from, on which occasion. And I realized that those brooches were like a novel of her life, and that is why she loved them so much.

                She taught me many things, how to talk with little children, how to maintain their attention, how to see beyond the pack. She said to me once that life can be bitter-sweet, and we choose if we take the sweetness or the bitterness out of it.

She was the one that taught me what should I do when a hurricane strikes, because, as I already said, we were expecting the other Irene. The only thing that she didn’t tell me was the fact that she had cancer. Couple of days after the storm calmed down, I went to Irene to have some tea. Nobody answered my knocks on the door. Another neighbor that saw told me she is in the hospital. “Hospital? What is she doing in the hospital” “Well, you know she has cancer and she didn’t felt good at all this morning.” “Cancer?!”

                On the way to see her I was thinking how was it possible, how come I didn’t knew, how come she never complained about it. I never saw her sad, she was always smiling and she seemed to be happy. All the time. I remember that at the beginning I was thinking that she is either crazy or she won a big prize or something. I told her this and that’s when she told me that everything relies on the way you look at life.

I understood from the doctors that the disease was in the final state and they didn’t have anything else they could do. I was holding her hand and she told me that her father used hold her hand like that every evening, and sing to her “Good night Irene” and she’s sorry that she didn’t teach me that song. But I knew it so I started: “Iiiiiireeeene goooood night, Ireeeene gooood night, good night, Ireeeene, goooood night Ireeeene, I’ll see yooouuu in my dreeeaaaaaaams ”. She was surprised, her blue eyes were filled with tears and she gave me the most serene smile. That was her last breath. She passed away on the first day of autumn, September 1^st.

I came back home in Romania and every single time I was talking about Irene I had tears in my eyes. But I wasn’t sad, I was happy and grateful that I had the chance to meet her and learn from her. One evening, the sky was filled with stars, and as I was looking up, I was thinking that Irene is up there and maybe she looks at me in that very moment and sends me her serene smile. It's so easy to make someone smile...

     I hope you rest in peace, Irene.

                All the victims of hurricane Irene, of all hurricanes, rest in peace! 





Inspired by Doamna Clara http://elzorab.blogspot.com/2011/08/doamna-clara.html