There was, well still is, a lake, near us, in the city, she would take me there, also, a few parks, which I remember as a child.
She also used to take me to my aunt, to see her and my uncle, my cousins.
I used to spend summers there, but, tbh, often it was because of my father drinking, and there she felt we were safe…
Usually, he would do just the usual scandal, but sometimes he would threaten us…
There, at my aunt’s, I had my first best friend, in that village, where we used to stay.
Man, back then I would use to play so much outside, until evening, sometimes up to nighttime.
I would often wake up my friend, as I would visit him in the morning; sometimes he would wake us up. 
His name is Gabriel (well, we used to call him a variant of that name).
Another relative, of my age, used to spend time with us, during our stay in that village.
My mom was feeling fine there, safe, I would say.
We even used to sleep outside, as there was a small barn, and we used to sleep on haystacks and some other sheets, I think.
Back home, she would cook for our family, all sorts of meals, all from our gardens (we had two, one bigger and a smaller garden), plus, we raised chicken and pigs too.
We had a mini farm 
(in the sense that we had all sorts of things you would expect to find in a Romanian village), with dogs and cats too.
Galon was the earliest dog I remember…
I forgot how he looked like.
He wasn’t a big dog, but not too small either.
Since I mentioned food, almost anything I ate as a child was homegrown, from peas, tomatoes, cabbage and grapes, to eggs and sausages and ham.
She used to do a lot of cooking, it was a hobby for her, she definitely loved cooking.
Even bread was homemade.
When I was a child we used to possess multiple terrains, near a forest, but we sold them, perhaps the first mistake (although there was a certain distance between our home and those lands we owned).
A not so perfect memory, kinda blurred, but still, an image which I have in my head, is my mom offering us food, and us sitting at the table, usually me and my bro, sometimes my mom and rarely my dad too, as he preferred eating alone.
My mom had 4 brothers and a sister.
She was born in the early 50s, so back then people often used to have bigger families.
Two of those brothers never married, and the house I live in now, was my grandma’s, then theirs, then my brother’s.
I grew up in a different house, not far from where I live now, but when I was ten years old, my mom left my father, and since then, we had other troubles and issues we went through.
That home was destroyed in the meantime, by the current owners, so now it only lives in my memories and perhaps some old pictures.
Speaking of pictures, they are old, low quality, most of them kept in some old crates and cabinets.
Perhaps I’ll upload a couple, but I cant promise anything.
First I’ll have to search for them, since I have not seen them in years…
Anyway…
My uncles used to visit us, every so often and they had a love hate relationship with my dad.
Well, they all enjoyed alcohol, that’s for sure, and good food too.
My mom felt like she was a second mother for them, since they didn’t have a family of their own.
The other two brothers had families, children, grandchildren…
One of my uncles was handicapped, not fully, just not in his right mind.
He suffered a sort of paralysis, if I remember correctly.
My mom used to love him and offer him all the food he would need.
He would even take objects from our house and sell them to rromas/gypsies, to get money for booze.
My father tolerated him, in fact he was merciful towards him.
Speaking of my father, my mom told me that he was the ideal man, before he started drinking.
He was tall, fit, sober and healthy back when he met my mom.
One of my finest memories with him is how he would carry me on his shoulders.
He had some very tender moments, sometimes…
Man, my childhood could have been perfect…
It was still quite good, overall.
My mom was the soul of the house, without her, there wouldn’t have been any gatherings.
She used to take care of so many things.
There are other memories, of course.
For example, I remember that I really enjoyed cartoons.
They were my fantasy, my escape from the real world.
My first cartoon, which Idk, maybe I have flashes of, as I was very little, was The Flintstones.
Later, I watched all sorts of cartoons, and Anime too, like Dragon Ball.
I remember that She bought me some Batman toys, and others too.
I didn’t dislike cars, I liked them too, but action figures were my favorites.
I didn’t have a lot of toys, but I was very happy with what I got.
I remember that toys were not cheap, and she would have to buy me only one at a time.
One of my early memories is Dallas, although I have only flashes in my mind, me running to tell my parents that Uncle Bobby appeared… 
Back then, everyone dreamt of the American dream, after the Revolution, poor Romanians dreamt of riches, land, capital.
Dallas was the ideal.
We also used to watch telenovelas, my mom, me and my dad too.
Somehow he got convinced to watch them, although he must have liked them, since Indian films, for example, he didn’t like.
On the other hand my mom did.
Probably that’s where I got my love for Indian songs and well, Indian cinema too.
My father was all Western.
Cowboys, shootings, action, he loved Western movies.
During the last 10-15 years or possibly more, Idk, my mom started watching Turkish dramas (TV shows, often spanning hundreds of episodes, sometimes less) , which to be honest are not bad at all, actually they can be phenomenal.
This one was one of the latest which we saw on tv, and I remembered that just a while ago, I started watching it from the beginning, on YouTube, and I found it be a good drama.
So, I’m going to watch it, from where I left…
The subtitles are kinda off, sometimes, but usually they are OK - it’s definitely watchable.
And one last memory which I will share:
Vinyl records…
My mom used to listen to Romanian romance, old style music and some other genres too, like folk music (local Romanian varieties).
She used to tell me stories of her childhood, about where she grew up, about her parents, brothers, memories which were all filled with nostalgia.
She also used to pray when I was a child.
We also went to two churches, one Catholic and one Orthodox.
She used to be Quite religious back then.
For now, this is it.
I hope she is having a healthy and fulfilled life, in the afterlife.
My dad too, all of them, I only wish them the best… 
My father died when I was 13.
He developed cancer.
A local told me that he said: “I used to have a family, a wife and a child, but I didn’t treasured them and now I don’t have anything…”…
My brother is older than me.
His dad died when he was 11 and my mom raised him alone, until years later, when she met my father.
I think my bro was like 16 back then.
He never loved my father, but he didn’t hate him either.
Also, when my mom got pregnant, my own grandmother told her to abort me, since she was 40 years old and with a history of surgeries and some health issues already.
She refused.
Later, my grandma started loving me (my mom told me that I used to laugh when she spoke with me and she started loving me, my grandma), but not for long, as she passed away not long after my birthday, some months after.
It was a shock for my mom, as my grandma used to give her strength, love, support.
Now, she found herself with a child, to raise, and she was kinda always afraid to not die, due to her health issues.
She already developed diabetes when I was a child and she had gallstones, by the time I was five years old.
We used to experience paranormal stuff in that old house, also my mom told me some stuff, which I might mention later.
My bro told me stuff too, even a cousin encountered strange things there…
How it started…
According to my mom.
Edit: my dad didn’t deny the story either…
My dad used to go with a woman, years before he met my mom, heck like 15 years before.
That woman told him that she is not fertile.
She lied.
She became pregnant and my dad, proud and angry, left her…
He didn’t want a child back then, and part of the reason he had a relationship with her was because she said that she was infertile.
He paid the child alimony, but didnt raise her.
That was my sister, Diana.
My mom told me that things were fine until Diana took some objects from our home.
Her mom dud some witchcraft, supposedly, and my dad started drinking uncontrollably…
That’s what my mom told me, that he wasn’t himself, after his daughter took some objects of his and my mom’s too.
In a last act of kindness, my mom received my dad in our apartment (after we sold our house, we got an apartment), so he could live his last days surrounded by his family…
He asked her for forgiveness.
She forgave him.
He didn’t want a priest, since he considered that the one he wronged was my mom.
Edit: the first special gift which I treasured above all else, which I received from my uncle (the husband of my mom’s sister), was a small puppy which we named Pamela.
Man, I loved that dog.
She was full of life and love.
This is the story of my mom, Ana, or rather a story, written by me, Gheorghe, her son.
Not a single part of what Ive written was fiction, nor exaggeration, however, it is all narrated from my memories and impressions, so it clearly doesn’t define her, plus it’s not her biography in any sense.
I might edit this post later, to add other details, but for now, this is it.
Thank You for reading this.