I was a child who waited...

March – about regeneration and the family as the root

"Family is the first school of the heart." - Ion Creangă There are families who live under the same roof and yet silently drift apart. People who see each other every day, but between them, invisible distances gradually form, made of misunderstandings, pride or things not said in time. And there are, at the same time Over time, families who end up living thousands of kilometers apart, spread across different cities and countries, but who remain connected by something much de

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March – about regeneration and the family as the root

"Family is the first school of the heart." - Ion Creangă There are families who live under the same roof and yet silently drift apart. People who see each other every day, but between them, invisible distances gradually form, made of misunderstandings, pride or things not said in time. And there are, at the same time Over time, families who end up living thousands of kilometers apart, spread across different cities and countries, but who remain connected by something much de

Mar 1511 min read

Part 2 - Too Soon

"The strength of self-confidence is sometimes born from the suffering of the past." - A.Golban Before adolescence truly began, there were two things, besides my mother's rare phone calls, that kept my soul above the longing: Cristina's letters from Germany and outings with Mariana in Timișoara. The letters were more than just paper. They were proof that the world is bigger than our village. Cristina wrote to us about her life, about her family, about the people there, about w

Feb 229 min read

Part 1 – 12 years

ch war zwölf, als meine Mutter ging. Nicht aus Wunsch, sondern aus Notwendigkeit. Spanien war für mich kein Ort, sondern ein Wort – ein fernes Versprechen. Zurück blieb kein benennbarer Schmerz, sondern ein stilles Fehlen. Ein Kind, das lernte zu warten, zu funktionieren, still zu sein. Diese Geschichte ist nicht nur meine. Sie gehört zu einer ganzen Generation.

Feb 227 min read

"Childhood is the heart of all ages."

— Lucian Blaga (Romanian poet & philosopher) ―

“Copilăria este inima tuturor vârstelor.”

I was a child who waited...

This space holds memories that for a long time had nowhere to belong.

I'm Andreea. This blog project grew out of my own story and the need to give a voice to the experiences of an entire generation. A generation of children who stayed behind while their parents left.

"Where the Oranges Bloom" is not a personal diary, but an archive of memory, a space for voices that were quiet, yet influential. Here I collect stories, my own and those of others, to make visible what has long remained invisible.