It’s the morning of April 15, 2002, about 5 o’clock in the morning. Irina, my daughter, is hugging me tight: “I don’t want you to leaaave… again!”. Still holding her in my arms, I start crying, big tears coming out
Who cares about those letters?
We are all striving for being more, having more and becoming happier, aren’t we? But how much do we acknowledge what we’ve become, who we are and what we’ve accomplished? I get all kind of comments and reactions about the