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I learned that the father of my child tragically died shortly after her marriage to another man. The pope visited his daughter on the weekends, and our communication last couple of years was reduced to replicas “bringest it six?” And “Give her, please, cottage cheese for breakfast,” but I could not hold back her grief and crying day and night. I do not know how to explain the three-year Veronica, where the pope. One day I brought her a balloon and launched in the doorway in front of him to make a surprise. She looked with interest into the corridor and suddenly disillusioned when he saw me. I not picked up the ball, ran into the kitchen crying. Then I remembered: her dad did that, she was waiting for him. Perhaps they had their jokes and their own little tradition, which I did not know. Maybe he let her have one ice cold and not melted on a silver platter. He knew me better than all the animals in the zoo, and certainly allowed her to climb above the trees in the yard. Since childhood, my child happened irreparable, and I was gripped by grief, which, moreover, did not know with whom to share. Everything was advised less upset.

“What will my husband? He will be jealous. Do not cry with him. He has any questions “, – I heard and really tried to cry less. Several other recommendations were given: “Three years? She will not remember daddy! She has such a great relationship with his stepfather, about her dad can not just talk. ” Such advice I strongly suppressed.

I was very sick, but mentally I was filled with “women’s wisdom” and strained smile, to cry in the bathroom at night. Secretly. I’m so glad that my husband was wiser. He first started talking about what had happened.

He used all began to ask how I feel. The first asked whether everything is now Veronica understand. I asked what kind of assistance is needed to relatives on the other side. And, perhaps, I would be very surprised if he knew that I was afraid to share with the person closest to their most powerful experience. I finally was able to open to someone the trouble. To say that I hurt too. He only realized that I do not need any advice or recommendations, just listened in silence, was there.

– It’s nothing that I tell? – I asked, just in case. – Maybe you hate?

– You what? – The husband asked. – I always knew you were a man who lived and loved, “think and suffer.” And I am also very sorry that it happened …

I felt ashamed that I underestimated him before, that after the others could think he believes me, “the woman with the past”, which is better not to remember, but it is not God forbid. No, I always knew that my husband up, cleaner, and better than those who use the term “divorcee with a trailer,” but it was at that moment I realized that next to me – the best friend, which do not hide, to which no need to hide anything. A friend who does not wait for me to execution of the rules of the books on “smart home economics” – “for the arrival of the wife of line up on growth as well as wash and comb children.”

Thanks to his support, and there were words. I do not know if my daughter will understand … But I called her and said, “Your father was a brave scientist who wanted to save the planet for all people in the world, but above all – for you. He went to the sky, studying the Earth. Now he will watch always and will always be watching you from the sky nearby, and I’ll tell you about it when you grow up. ” More it is not asked.

I felt better when I forgot about the councils’ to always be friendly and bake the buns fresh apron, no matter what. ” At home no one not afraid to say how Veronica is like a dad. No one hides the old photos. I know that the daughter remembers and loves the Pope, but also know that she has a dear friend and protector – my husband, whom she became known as “Papa Vova” lately.

Best Friend, which do not need to hide anything, and I have, because against the “women of wisdom”, as it turned out, there is the wisdom of love. And the wisdom of love was stronger in this dispute.

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