The Line Between Grief and Hop

You know what they say: when life gives you lemons, make lemonade? I am beyond that stage. I am tired of sour lemonade.

Since the tragic loss of my mother, I have remained alone, a prisoner in this desolate house. Solitude is not a word; it is a heavy equation.

Just when I thought I could start breathing again, an official letter arrived. It confirmed not just the spiritual mourning, but a legal crisis: my residency application was declared 'Invalidated'. They did not allow me to leave, nor did they leave me a way back.

They left me suspended, saying that my grief and my duty as a son were not sufficient reasonable grounds, slamming the door shut.

But when one door slams shut, the soul knows it must open a window. 

I chose to apply the other principle: when you receive a blow, you turn the other cheek. Not to receive a second strike, but to show that I have the dignity to move forward.

I sent a desperate plea for help, putting my story into simple, yet heavy words. I sought support from independent specialists who know how to fight with legal argument, where my word alone cannot reach.

This action is my only declaration of faith that justice can be found. I hold onto the only certainty that remains to me: hope is the last thing to die.

 

Erik Pytar

The Daily, Snatches of Life