{"version":"1.0","provider_name":"Inside out","provider_url":"https:\/\/peternoel.cafeblog.hu","author_name":"Peter Noel","author_url":"https:\/\/peternoel.cafeblog.hu\/author\/peternoelfreemail-hu\/","title":"Peter Noel: Az \u00e1lmok h\u00eddja - The bridge of dreams","html":"

(You can read the English version under the Hungarian text.)<\/p>\r\n

Szia Anya!<\/p>\r\n

A k\u00e9k eget n\u00e9zem, s a mosolyodra gondolok, mely visszarep\u00edt engem a gyermekkorba, mikor m\u00e9g minden rendben volt. S most azt se b\u00e1nom, ha t\u00fal sok\u00e1ig id\u0151z\u00f6m az eml\u00e9kekben, s v\u00e9g\u00fcl megszakad a sz\u00edvem. Tudod, apa a hal\u00e1la el\u0151tt elmes\u00e9lte, hogyan ismerkedtetek meg gyerekk\u00e9nt. A ny\u00e1ri mez\u0151n a felh\u0151ket n\u00e9zve. Ma ugyanolyan ragyog\u00f3 az \u00e9g, s arra eml\u00e9keztet, ahogy elb\u00fajtam otthon, mikor kint vihar tombolt. F\u00e9ltem t\u0151le \u00e9s csod\u00e1ltam az erej\u00e9t.<\/p>\r\n

N\u00e9zem az eml\u00e9keket, anya, s b\u00e1r tudom, ha t\u00fal sok\u00e1ig maradok, megint s\u00edrni fogok, s a vihar felkapja legszebb perceinket, m\u00e9gsem tudlak itt hagyni titeket. Annyi k\u00e9rd\u00e9sem lenne hozz\u00e1d\u2026<\/p>\r\n

Hogyan kell j\u00f3l felejteni, mikor eml\u00e9keink hat\u00e1rozz\u00e1k meg \u00e9let\u00fcnket? Mik\u00e9nt kell helyesen d\u00f6nteni, mikor tudod, hogy b\u00e1rmit is v\u00e1lasztasz, azzal valakinek f\u00e1jdalmat okozol? Hogyan lehet megbocs\u00e1jtani azoknak, kik bebizony\u00edtott\u00e1k, hogy a sz\u00edv\u00fck romlott, \u00e9s aljas emberek, \u00e9s tudatosan \u00e1rtanak nek\u00fcnk? Te hogyan tudtad megtenni? Hogyan kell j\u00f3nak maradni, amikor r\u00e1j\u00f6ssz, hogy k\u00f6r\u00fcl\u00f6tted becstelen\u00fcl j\u00e1tszanak? Szabad-e rossznak lenni, ha j\u00f3t akarsz, s v\u00e9g\u00fcl j\u00f3ra fordul-e minden? A sz\u00edvem k\u00e9pes-e j\u00f3 maradni \u00e9letem v\u00e9g\u00e9ig, ha t\u00fal sokszor becsapj\u00e1k?<\/p>\r\n

Mi a j\u00f3s\u00e1g? Mindig j\u00f3t kell-e tenni, \u00e9s helyesen cselekedni? Vagy el\u00e9g szeretetb\u0151l \u00e9lni, s nem baj, ha n\u00e9ha elbotlunk?<\/p>\r\n

Tudod, anya, a rohan\u00f3 napokban m\u00e1r nem tudom, ki az a f\u00e9rfi, akit a v\u00e9remben hordok. Von\u00e1sait felismerem, de a tekintete egy idegen\u00e9. Elvesz\u00edtettem l\u00e9nyeg\u00e9t. Kev\u00e9sb\u00e9 hiszi a csod\u00e1t, mint egykor \u00e9n, s nem mer m\u00e1r igaz\u00e1n szeretni, \u00e9s tartozni valakihez. Pedig nem erre nevelt\u00e9l. L\u00e1tok egy kisfi\u00fat a m\u00faltban, ki mez\u00edtl\u00e1b rohan a poros f\u00f6ld\u00f6n a forr\u00f3 ny\u00e1rban. Est\u00e9nk\u00e9nt a csillagokat n\u00e9zi, s arr\u00f3l \u00e1lmodik, hogy m\u00e1s galaxisokat is l\u00e1t majd. Hogy az \u00e9let t\u00f6bb, mint egy apr\u00f3, k\u00e9k bolyg\u00f3 tr\u00e9f\u00e1ja. Mert \u00fagy hiszi, t\u00f6bbnek kell lennie. A bar\u00e1taival a f\u0171ben fekszik, s a csillagokat n\u00e9zik. A sz\u00edve nyitott, hinni tud m\u00e9g mindenben \u00e9s mindenkiben. Boldog, mert azokkal van, akiket szeret, s nincs benne semmi f\u00e9lelem.<\/p>\r\n

Sz\u00fclet\u00e9snapom van, anya, de nagyon hi\u00e1nyoztok. Nem akarok m\u00e1st, csak n\u00e9h\u00e1ny lopott percet, hogy \u00fajra l\u00e1ssam, ahogy nevettek. Nem akarok m\u00e1st, csak megtal\u00e1lni a kisfi\u00fat, aki voltam. Aki nyitott sz\u00edvvel tud \u00e9lni, s \u00fajra mer tartozni valakihez. Megtal\u00e1lni mindazt, amire nevelt\u00e9l. Ha nem is vagyok k\u00e9pes mindig helyesen d\u00f6nteni, legal\u00e1bb a sz\u00e1nd\u00e9kaim legyenek j\u00f3k. Mert merni kell igaz\u00e1n szeretni. Nem igaz, anya?<\/p>\r\n

Majdnem \u00f6t \u00e9v telt el, hogy elmentetek, s \u00e9n nem lettem sokkal okosabb, vagy b\u00f6lcsebb, de egyet megtanultam\u2026 Van valami l\u00e1thatatlan sz\u00e1l, ami \u00f6sszek\u00f6ti az embereket, ami \u00f6sszefog mindent. Nem \u00e9rdekli az id\u0151 \u00e9s a t\u00e9r, \u00f6sszetart \u00e9s \u00f6sszek\u00f6t minket. Nem hagyja elveszni a szeretet\u00fcnket. K\u00f6sz\u00f6n\u00f6m, anya, hogy pr\u00f3b\u00e1ltatok j\u00f3 emberr\u00e9 nevelni. K\u00f6sz\u00f6n\u00f6m, hogy szerettetek. S k\u00f6sz\u00f6n\u00f6m, hogy hozz\u00e1tok sz\u00fclethettem. Rem\u00e9lem, nem okozok nektek t\u00fal sok csal\u00f3d\u00e1st az \u00e9letemmel. Szeretlek titeket. Olyan k\u00e9pet v\u00e1lasztottam, amikor m\u00e9g \u00e9ltetek. Rem\u00e9lem, tal\u00e1lkozunk m\u00e9g... Ha m\u00e1sk\u00e9nt nem, az \u00e1lmok h\u00eddj\u00e1n.<\/p>\r\n

Makacs fiatok \u2013\u00a0Peter Noel<\/a>,\u00a0Peter Noel Privat<\/a>,\u00a0P\u00e9ter Noel<\/a>. Szerz\u0151i \u00e9s minden jog fenntartva. Megoszthat\u00f3 v\u00e1ltoztat\u00e1s n\u00e9lk\u00fcl, mindennem\u0171 egy\u00e9b felhaszn\u00e1l\u00e1sa enged\u00e9lyk\u00f6teles. Sz\u00f3val, ha ezek ut\u00e1n is leny\u00falod a sz\u00f6vegeimet, megkereslek, \u00e9s bek\u00f6lt\u00f6z\u00f6k hozz\u00e1d t\u00f6bb h\u00f3napra. Biztos, ezt akarod?\u00a0<\/p>\r\n

\"Peter<\/a><\/p>\r\n

Hi Mom,<\/p>\r\n

I'm staring at the blue sky, and thinking on your smile, that flies me back to my childhood, shen everything was all right. And now, I don't even regret wasting too much time on my memories, and finally my heart breaks. You know, Dad told me, how you met as children, before his death. On the summer fields, watching the clouds. Today, the sky is the same, bright blue, and it reminds me the memory, when I hid at home, when the storm came. I was afraid of it, yet was amazed by its power.<\/p>\r\n

I am watching the memories, Mom, and even if I know, I'll cry again, if I'll spend too much time for it, and the storm will grab our most wonderful minutes, yet I just can not leave you. I have so many questions for you...<\/p>\r\n

How to forget properly, when our memories determine our lives? How to make a decision, when you know, whatever you choose, you'll hurt someone? How to forget those, who proved, their hearts are rotten, and they all all bad people, and they hurt us with purpose. How could you do these? How to stay a good person, when you realized, they play an unfair game all around you? Is it polite to be bad, if you want to do good things, and finally everything will be fine? Can my heart stay good till the rest of my life, if it was betrayed so many times?<\/p>\r\n

What is goodness? Should we always be good and do good things? Or is it enough to live by love and is it OK to fail sometimes?<\/p>\r\n

You know, Mom, in these rushing days, I don't know the man, I'm carrying in my blood. I recognize his apparel, but his gaze is a stranger's. I've lost his point. He believes in miracle less than I did before, and is afraid to love deeply, and to belong to someone. But it's not what you raised me for. I see a little boy, running in the field barefooted, in the hot summer. He is staring at the stars at nights, and is dreaming of seeing other galaxies. That life is more, than just the joke of a tiny blue planet. Because he believes, that it has to be more. He is laying on the grass with his friends, and they are watching the stars. He is happy to be with his loved ones, he is not afraid.<\/p>\r\n

I have a birthday, Mom, but you both miss me so much. I don't want anything, just a few stolen minutes, just to see you both laughing again. I don't want anything else, just to find the little boy that I was. Who dares to live with an open heart, and is not afraid to belong to someone. To find, what you raised me for. Even if I can't always make the right decision, at least my will has to be good. Because we have to dare to love. Haven't we, Mom?<\/p>\r\n

You passed away almost 5 years ago, and I didn't become much smarter or wiser, but I've learned one thing...<\/p>\r\n

There's an invisible lane, that connects people, that holds everything together. It doesn't care about time and space, it keeps us and holds us together. It won't leave our love get lost. Thank you Mom, for trying to raise me to be a good person. Thank you that you loved me. And thank you that I was born to you both. I hope, I won't disappoint you that much with my life. I love you both. I chose a photo, that was made when you both lived. I hope, we will meet again dome day... At least, at the bridge of dreams.<\/p>\r\n

Yours stubborn Son\u00a0\u2013\u00a0Peter Noel<\/a>,\u00a0P\u00e9ter Noel<\/a>,\u00a0Peter Noel Privat<\/a>\u00a0Copyright and all rights reserved. Shareable without modification, any other use requires authorization. Well, if you steal my texts after these, I find you, and I move in to you onto more months. Are you sure, is this what you want?\u00a0<\/p>","type":"rich"}