He remembered his father’s hands—rough, calloused, and stained with the grease of the tractors he fixed to pay for Matei’s university tuition. He remembered his mother’s eyes, always tired but always sparkling when she managed to tuck an extra few banknotes into his coat pocket before he left for the city.
He stepped into the light of the porch, the music in his head swelling. "I'm home," he whispered. And for the first time in a decade, the restless man felt he was exactly where he was meant to be. Rico Nadara - Parinti mei (Cover Florin Cercel Live 2022)
"You are our pride," they had told him. "Our tired backs are the bridge for you to walk toward the sun." He remembered his father’s hands—rough