The Tie That Connected Two Worlds

(LeCsó Thought Notebook – Remembrance Cycle)

There was a man who tied his tie every day.

Not because it was obligatory — but because that was how the day was complete.

The tie was for him order, respect, a silent message to the world:

"I want to be a man today too."

On the weekend he allowed himself to put on sneakers, but the vest and tie remained with him even then.

As if the carefully tied knot had held together

the day, the man, the world.

Whoever loved him knew this well.

Then one day came when the tie remained on the hanger.

Whoever wore it until then set off towards another, quieter world.

And whoever stayed here was left without a single small movement.

Without a knot that had held everything together until then.

But love sometimes grows new roots unnoticed.

One morning the boy stood in front of the mirror, took the tie in his hand, and slowly, silently tied it.

Not because he had to, but because he felt:

this connected him to the man who no longer lived on earth, but in his heart.

The first knot was still trembling.

The second was more secure.

With the third, he felt that he was not alone standing in front of the mirror.

From then on, he tied the tie every morning.

Not out of fashion.

Not out of habit.

But out of respect.

The tie became the bridge that connects two worlds:

the silence of yesterday with the noise of today, the father's smile with the son's life, the love of the past with the power of the present.

And although the man who always wore a tie is no longer with us,

he is not truly gone.

Because it is there in every knot: in the movement, in the respect, in that quiet morning moment when the boy raises his hand in front of the mirror and says to himself at the beginning of a new day: 

"Dad, you are with me today too."