„How are you sure that God exists?Or after life?“ asked Milena,looking at me with her blue,curious eyes. „Because I cannot imagine how I simply cease to exist.My spirit,soul,everything I’ve gained with this mind and this heart cannot just disappear“ said I,thinking how life cannot just shut down without finding another form,recycling itself. „But,what if it can?“ continued Milena „remember all those stories your mom told you happened to her?You know all the details,right?But you were not around then,you didn’t exist.You weren’t here then,same as you are not going to be here in 100 years...“ I remembered this conversation while approaching the fence i recognized, standing at the edge of Vltava,looking towards the dark gray Cathedral rising from the Castle behind the bridge.Even the weather,cloudy and gray,is matching the one from the photo,taken at the same place,exactly 25 years earlier,with my mom leaning on this same fence in her light gray fur coat smiling at my dad behind the camera.She visited him,as she usually did whenever she missed him or Prague,this time around not for long,since it was a sowing season and she was the only one helping her father-in-law working in the field. When she first came to the village my dad grew up in,she thought it was only to meet her husband’s family after which they would leave for Belgrade or some other place.She married him,not his family,she’d always repeat, advising me to choose a husband that would take my side and take me with him wherever he is.It’s been seven years now, and she was still living there with her little boy,my brother Goran.My dad was working near Prague and was away every few months,leaving her in the village,that for her,a city girl,seemed as if she traveled through time.There was no bathroom,she shared the house with her husband’s cousins,worked in the field,cleaned the stable and washed dirty diapers at the cold water stream.This is only temporary,she thought.Dad was earning enough for them to buy a new house somewhere,and she will,as soon as she gives birth to me,start studying again and find a good job later. Goran celebrated his seventh birthday that April 1992,while my lungs just started fully developing in hers womb.I was kicking her belly big time while Goran and she were catching a train from Belgrade to Prague in order to see my dad before my birth. Belgrade was a capital of Yugoslavia,a country of opportunities with the most valuable passport in the world and was considered very progressive and trendsetting city of Europe.Even Prague would envy it for its vividness and charm. It was a rainy April day and she was happy she is walking through the heart of Europe with her boys,caressing her stomach,hoping she’ll get a girl in her team.Air was frisky and streets were,unlike today,empty,so Goran could try his new bike dad has bought him.They crossed the bridge approaching National Theater with its golden roof and carriages on the corners and turned left towards the old city.She was reading the names of the stores and streets,practicing her pronunciation,before reaching the monument of Smetana,sitting in the middle of the little,semi circled square placed over blurry Vltava.„Turn around“,dad said capturing my 25-year-old mom and 8 months old me,smiling and care free in front of the Charles bridge. Here am I,standing at the same place, as old as she was,looking at the same bridge,over the same blurred river,sound of my thoughts prevailing sound of its strong stream. 25 years ago,shortly after I was born,war started,displacing people and territories.My grandpa tragically died and my dad decided to return to his village and never leave again,watching the rest of their money melt into alcohol and slowly drowning in his sorrow.Mom stayed by his side and soon became an unemployed single mother.Milking cows,harvesting,watching hers and her children’s identities shifting with political streams,she’d reminisce about Prague and think what would have happen if they stayed there. Here am I,standing at the same place,thinking how strange it is that I was here,before I was here. „It has to mean God exists then.“ I murmured watching the ducks fight the stream „After life must be existing then...“ If so, I surely hope the next one will treat you better dearest mom.