A monastery where you walk through history

About Us

Welcome to our little virtual corner! I’m a single mother raising my wonderful son, Ruben, who has grown into a remarkable teenager. For years, I was the sole breadwinner as a Krav Maga instructor, balancing the challenges of parenthood and work on my own.

When Ruben started kindergarten, I embarked on a new journey by studying healthcare management at Semmelweis University, specializing in health tourism management. After graduating, I began working in my field and experienced firsthand the tragic impact of the COVID-19 pandemic while serving as a healthcare manager in a state hospital.

As the pandemic subsided, I transitioned into private healthcare, where I currently work as a practice manager. Meanwhile, our family moved from a small town to Vác, a charming historic Danube riverside city near Budapest.

Here, we embrace the everyday moments and joys of life together. If you want to hear more stories about us, you’re warmly invited to visit the original Daysonpaper blog at S&Ru’s Diary on daysonpaper.blog.hu.

So I decided to try living for a year on an international stage and see if there are other mothers in similar shoes for whom this diary could be a support on the harder days—just as it has been a support for me when I was able to look beyond the difficulties and sincerely believe in my own strength.

Thank you for stopping by!

When we woke up this morning, Rú and I felt something in the air that urged us to get going. The morning started with some well-deserved lounging, but then we began to think about where to head. Since my work and Rú’s afternoon nap limit our free time, we decided to just go as far as Szécsény. It seemed like a good idea to celebrate August—or just Tuesday—with a lunch that is always both uplifting and heartwarming: a shared meal with my son in a different town, on a restaurant terrace. It’s so… uhhh, it completely moves me.

Before that, we visited a Franciscan monastery, which, to my great surprise, also captivated Rú and absolutely amazed me. My parents had been there a few weeks ago and had piqued my curiosity with the stories they brought back. We explored from a different perspective, but it was just as fascinating for us! I’m sure my personal background, the way I turn toward history, added something to the visit. Anyone looking at 11th-century artifacts—no matter who they are—must feel the weight of the ages. These objects are survivors, centuries appearing by chance, reminding me how fluid and elusive time is. And how absurd the idea seems to lock it behind a clock face. After all, a clock is just a tool to mark passing time—but it has no power over it. If it did, I’d pull the battery from ours forever. (: