“‘Mom, look! I will fly in the clouds’ – said my 3-year-old son standing at a window on the third floor. I was terrified. I still have this feeling. I feel that I have no access to reality as such, I’m talking about the present, direct participation in being here and now. I get up in the morning, I see my son (who is wonderful), and I look at him as if he is already dead and disappeared. After returning from school he will be a completely different person. I know he will never be the same as he is now and I’m overwhelmed with grief by the thought of continually passing time and my inability to stop it from doing so. I’d like to find something permanent– some support (anchor point). Meanwhile, everything flows, circles and spins.“

Keep Away From Fire by Urszula Kluz-Knopek (4/5)

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