I remember the day your mother and I went to the coast. Everything changed when you were born, but back then we still had a coast not poisoned by…

I remember the day your mother and I went to the coast. Everything changed when you were born, but back then we still had a coast not poisoned by fuel from sunken military tankers. Without the burned corpses of young soldiers, both ours and Boreans, who died in that senseless war. On that sunny day, your mother and I drank three bottles of wine, swam until it got cold, and then warmed ourselves up in each other’s arms under a large woolen blanket. I remember that day as clearly as if it was yesterday. Because the day we conceived you is the second happiest day of my life. The first one is the day you were born.