Pe o banc\u0103 veche, l\u00e2ng\u0103 gardul din fier ruginit al cimitirului, st\u0103tea un b\u0103ie\u021bel care sem\u0103na izbitor cu fiul lui \u2014 acelea\u0219i spr\u00e2ncene groase, acela\u0219i z\u00e2mbet \u0219trengar, aceea\u0219i privire bl\u00e2nd\u0103.<\/p>\n
B\u0103rbatul s-a cl\u0103tinat un pas \u00een spate. Nu \u0219tia dac\u0103 viseaz\u0103 sau dac\u0103 mintea i-a luat-o razna. S-a frecat la ochi, \u0219i totu\u0219i copilul era acolo.<\/p>\n
\u2014 Mih\u0103i\u021b\u0103… a \u0219optit el.<\/p>\n
B\u0103iatul de pe banc\u0103 s-a ridicat \u00eencet \u0219i a z\u00e2mbit.
\u2014 Bun\u0103, tati.<\/p>\n
Un fior rece i-a trecut prin tot trupul. Inima \u00eei b\u0103tea de parc\u0103 voia s\u0103-i ias\u0103 din piept.
\u2014 Nu… nu se poate… tu e\u0219ti…<\/p>\n
B\u0103iatul a f\u0103cut un pas \u00eenainte \u0219i a spus lini\u0219tit:
\u2014 M-ai uitat, tati? \u021ai-am spus c\u0103 voi veni s\u0103 te mai v\u0103d.<\/p>\n
B\u0103rbatul a sim\u021bit c\u0103 genunchii nu-l mai \u021bin. A c\u0103zut \u00een genunchi, tremur\u00e2nd, cu ochii \u00een lacrimi.
\u2014 Doamne… dac\u0103 e un vis, te rog, nu m\u0103 trezi…<\/p>\n
Copilul s-a apropiat \u0219i i-a pus m\u00e2na pe um\u0103r. Era o atingere cald\u0103, real\u0103, vie.
\u2014 Nu pl\u00e2nge, tati. Eu sunt bine acum. Am vrut doar s\u0103-\u021bi spun c\u0103 nu trebuie s\u0103 mai suferi.<\/p>\n
Lacrimile i-au curs \u0219i mai tare.
\u2014 Dar… cum? Cum e posibil?<\/p>\n
B\u0103iatul a z\u00e2mbit.
\u2014 Aici, la cimitir, timpul nu mai e ca acolo. M-a l\u0103sat Dumnezeu s\u0103 vin o dat\u0103 s\u0103-\u021bi spun c\u0103 m-ai iubit destul. Po\u021bi s\u0103 mergi mai departe.<\/p>\n
B\u0103rbatul \u0219i-a acoperit fa\u021ba cu palmele, pl\u00e2ng\u00e2nd ca un copil. Copilul lui, care acum p\u0103rea un \u00eenger, \u00eel privea cu ochii plini de lumin\u0103.<\/p>\n
Deodat\u0103, v\u00e2ntul s-a ridicat \u0219i frunzele au \u00eenceput s\u0103 danseze printre cruci. C\u00e2nd a ridicat din nou privirea, b\u0103iatul disp\u0103ruse.<\/p>\n
Doar mingea, aceea\u0219i minge cu care se juca \u00eenainte de tragedie, se rostogolea \u00eencet spre el.
A ridicat-o \u0219i a str\u00e2ns-o la piept.<\/p>\n
Pentru prima dat\u0103 dup\u0103 luni de durere, a sim\u021bit lini\u0219te. Nu pentru c\u0103 \u00ee\u0219i pierduse fiul, ci pentru c\u0103 \u00eel sim\u021bea acolo, l\u00e2ng\u0103 el, \u00eentr-un fel nou, nev\u0103zut.<\/p>\n
\u00cen acea zi, a plecat din cimitir f\u0103r\u0103 ur\u0103, f\u0103r\u0103 lacrimi, doar cu un z\u00e2mbet u\u0219or \u0219i un g\u00e2nd \u00een inim\u0103:
\u201eNu moare nimeni cu adev\u0103rat c\u00e2t timp este iubit.\u201d<\/p>\n
De atunci, \u00een fiecare duminic\u0103, venea la morm\u00e2nt nu ca s\u0103 pl\u00e2ng\u0103, ci ca s\u0103-i povesteasc\u0103 fiului s\u0103u ce mai f\u0103cea via\u021ba.
\u0218i, din c\u00e2nd \u00een c\u00e2nd, c\u00e2nd v\u00e2ntul b\u0103tea printre brazi, mingea se mi\u0219ca u\u0219or singur\u0103.
Iar el \u0219tia… Mih\u0103i\u021b\u0103 era acolo.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
Pe o banc\u0103 veche, l\u00e2ng\u0103 gardul din fier ruginit al cimitirului, st\u0103tea un b\u0103ie\u021bel care sem\u0103na izbitor cu fiul lui \u2014 acelea\u0219i spr\u00e2ncene groase, acela\u0219i z\u00e2mbet \u0219trengar, aceea\u0219i privire bl\u00e2nd\u0103. B\u0103rbatul s-a cl\u0103tinat un pas \u00een spate. Nu \u0219tia dac\u0103 viseaz\u0103 sau dac\u0103 mintea i-a luat-o razna. S-a frecat la ochi, \u0219i totu\u0219i copilul era […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":10815,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[18],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-10814","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-povesti"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/bumzi.ro\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/10814","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/bumzi.ro\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/bumzi.ro\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/bumzi.ro\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/bumzi.ro\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=10814"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/bumzi.ro\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/10814\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":10816,"href":"https:\/\/bumzi.ro\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/10814\/revisions\/10816"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/bumzi.ro\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/media\/10815"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/bumzi.ro\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=10814"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/bumzi.ro\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=10814"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/bumzi.ro\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=10814"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}