Klara was remembering her sixth birthday party today, and it suddenly struck me that it was less than a year ago. To me, it feels like a different era. Before the war, before my father died.
Everything changed since then. Every day when I come home, N and I exchange updates on what we read, watched and listened about the war. I have watched more YouTube videos since the war began than in all of my previous life. I have seen more images of dead bodies and severed body parts than I could ever imagine seeing.
I also discovered so many new ideas, people, and schools of thought that I feel like a completely different person. My worldview changed a lot. I look back at who I was during Klara’s 6th birthday party, and I don’t recognize that person. It’s a different world and a different me.
The death of a parent is a once-in-a-lifetime experience that forever alters one’s place in the world, and it takes a lot of getting used to. War in your native land, with the destruction of places well known to you, must bring about a similar shift in your self-perception. It is nonetheless surprising how much change can happen within a single year.
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Thank you. I feel like I’ve been hit over the head many times over. It’s not been a good year.
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