I met Andrzej on a walk in the park.
My husband's death was the end of the world for me. We were together for almost 40 years, sharing a life full of ups and downs, joys and sorrows. Jan was my support, my friend, my other half. When he left, I felt like someone had ripped out a part of me. For months I lived in a void, unable to imagine that anything could fill this loss.
But life can be unpredictable.
I met Andrzej on a walk in the park. He was an older, elegant man who approached me while I was sitting on a bench, staring at the yellowing leaves.
– Beautiful day, wasn't it? – he asked with a smile.
We started talking, and for the first time in a long time I felt the words flow freely, without the burden of sadness. Andrzej told me about his passion for books, about his grandchildren, about his wife, who had passed away a few years earlier. He was warm, kind, and there was something about him that made me want to see him again.
We started meeting regularly. Long walks turned into conversations over coffee, and conversations turned into something that resembled a long-forgotten feeling – joy. But along with this joy came pangs of conscience.
Could I really afford to be happy after Jan's death? Wasn't what I was doing a betrayal of his memory?
The first person I told about Andrzej was my daughter, Basia. Her reaction was a shock to me.
– Mom, how could you? – she asked reproachfully. – Daddy hasn't even cooled off in the ground yet, and you're already dating someone else?
The words were like a blow.
– Basia, it's not like that… – I began, trying to explain. – I still love your father. But life goes on.
– Does it really have to be this way? – she replied coldly, and then left, leaving me with a feeling of guilt that choked me for days.
When I told Andrzej what had happened, he looked at me with concern.
– Anna, the love for your husband does not disappear – he said calmly. – But does the fact that he died mean that you have to stop living ?
Those words stuck in my head. Did I really have the right to be happy? Could I allow myself to have a new love without betraying Jan's memory?
I thought about it over the next few weeks. Every smile from Andrzej, every warm word made me feel lighter, less lonely. But at the same time, I was fighting against the pangs of conscience, against the voices in my head that said it was wrong.
One day I went to the cemetery. I was standing by Jan's grave, holding a bouquet of his favorite flowers.
– Jan, would you want me to be lonely? – I asked in a whisper, looking at the name of the man who was my whole world engraved on the slab. – Would you let me be happy again?
The wind rustled the leaves on the trees, and I felt as if its answer was present in that moment. I knew Jan would want me to live on, to find someone who would make me feel loved again.
A few days later, I met Basia. I told her about my feelings, about how Andrzej was helping me find joy in life again. It was hard, but eventually she looked at me with understanding.
– Mom, I'm sorry. I just miss Dad. But if Andrzej makes you happy, then I guess it's good.
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