This is the symbol of gratitude. Today is an important day. Thanks to a message I received from my father, in response to a message I had sent him on Sunday, I had a moment of reality check. I had not wanted to contact him, because I felt I always reached out without reciprocity. My partner insisted I reach out, this last time, at least. As a result of that, a moment of truth that I had omitted for many, many years — whether it be conscious or unconsciously, surfaced.

There is one person I have been leaving out of my stories that has been key for a period of my life. Gledyz Lemoine. My father’s wife. The one who said yes, when my mom had said no. The one who took me in her home without hesitation. The one who received a fifteen-year-old troubled girl, and made the best out of it. The one who took care of me, both physically and emotionally, despite what I represented. And boy, did I represent work. Before my mother kicked me out of her life, she had spent countless years and effort in making it very clear to me that my father was scum, and that his wife was a witch. The perfect couple. She had instilled in me this profound feeling of rejection towards them, projecting her own troubled heart onto me. I could have opposed, I could have ignored, I could have told her to stop. But I knew no better. My mother was my world, and I had no tools to look for my own truths, and to establish my own opinions. I had never had any real contact with anyone out of the Varenkov’s world. And now, at my 47 years of age, I understand that even though it might sound as a justification, it’s so much more than that. Human beings are such complex creatures, influenced by the outer world, and with choices on how to act and react, yet with a very poor discern of what’s best, at the age of 15.

I look at my own fifteen-year-old and I marvel. It’s impossible to recognize myself in her. She’s a child. A growing child. I do not see me, at fifteen, the same way. I see lots of confusion, much uncertainty. And she has them too! But hers are: ‘Will I ever have a boyfriend? What will I study when I graduate?’ The type of confusions that, at the moment seem so overwhelming — I get that. Yet my concerns were of a different matter. ‘What now, that my mother kicked me out of the house? What do I do now, among these horrific people? (According to my mom) How do I keep going when all I had, I’ve been removed from?’ And all that had an impact on how I felt and thus, my behavior. Nevertheless, my father’s wife had no obligation to put up with a “traumatized” child. No obligation but to assist my father in providing a roof and food for me. She did more than that. She was there when my dad was working. Her family (which happened to be mine because my father and her are cousins) embraced my presence the best they could, offering both empathy and kindness. She even worked like crazy on my wedding and all the details of the decoration and the party itself. She made many things happen for me.

Today, a woman who I have seldom mentioned, gets a special recognition for her effort to take care of me, even if we did not and still do not look eye-to-eye on many things. I have lost all communication with her, even though she is still married to my father. But thank you, Gledyz! For loving my father so much, and putting up with a 15-year-old stranger that came in such an abrupt manner into your life. You proved my mother wrong. You are not a witch. You are not mean. You are not cruel. Even if it has taken me more than 20 years to recognize what you did for me, I do. They say it’s never too late. I disagree. For many things, I have found that solutions have come in late. What I feel is that it’s never too early to be grateful. So in this case, I’m probably late. But it’s at this time of life, and at this moment of my relationship with my father (whichever that might be) that I reach out to his wife, to thank her for all she did.

I do not hope she reads this, for I sent her a message which she read. I felt the need to mention her and honor what she did for me, through this post.

Thank you, Robert, my partner, for pushing me to give my most to those who should be by my side. Always striving to unite.

Some things take time. Gratitude should not be one of them.