I remember my son falling asleep on my shoulder after a long day.
How my mother and I would cut salad together, laughing at old jokes.
How I would go out onto the balcony when everyone was already in bed and breathe in the spring air.
These are the moments that are real. We often prepare for holidays as if they were about perfection. But, honestly, everything important happens between the lines. Between the plates, between the lines, between the looks.
I don't want perfect holidays.
I want lively ones. The ones after which you're still warm inside for a long time.
And what do you remember when everything calms down?