Two months of anxiety. Part 1 The first days of the war in Ukraine. Confusion and incomprehension in my soul. Nothing to calm myself with. I look for a way out, I think how to evacuate Mama. Alarming reports, who is right — who is to blame — what to do — unknown.
And then on Facebook they show a live broadcast from Moscow, a government sitting headed by Valentina Matviyenko. They reason and report about money and not a word about military actions on the territory of Ukraine. That was, I think, 3 March. The war in full swing, people are being killed, they are bombing, and in Moscow they reason how to distribute the budget! And those listening to this nonsense can write comments as the sitting goes on.
Well then it carried me away… I write — type in every free line: “Stop the slaughter in Ukraine! Stop your monster! Stop the war! Stop the war! Enough sitting! My mama was born in the Moscow region in the settlement of Bolshevo, during the Great Patriotic War, as a teenager, she worked round the clock at the post office of Yaroslavsky station, took part in the defence of Moscow, defending you, not yet born! And now she is in Kiev, which you are bombing! Stop!”
I look at the screen, I feel some confusion in their sitting, but of course Matviyenko continues to lead the event. And I type again: “enough sitting! ‘Stop the monster!’” And here Ivan has already come from work. I am in hysterics 😫, I say: “I’m fighting Moscow as I can!” He shrugged and says: “that will change nothing.” Later I learned, Valentina Matviyenko is Ukrainian, she grew up in Cherkasy, in Ukraine. And how does she live — sleep there, when her Homeland is on fire, in ruin.
I do not know whose remark that is about politics, which I was not interested in, but perhaps it is right: “if you are not interested in politics, then politics will start being interested in you” 🧐 One so wants to send far away the one who said that.
After about 10 days of war I understood that I have no right to live in constant stress, in tears and snot, and it is time to take myself in hand, occupy myself with ordinary peaceful household affairs, and also with myself, and that means: go out into the fresh air, breathe more deeply, enter my usual rhythm, keep calm, not enter into any conversations and quarrels with people I know in Ukraine. I am not able to change the course of the tragic events; it remains only to wait and pray for those who are in trouble.
Every day I ring Mama; she says everything is fine, she does not want to go anywhere, a neighbour comes in to her, they watch TV together and drink tea. My sister (she lives in Denmark) formed a plan to evacuate Mama. An acquaintance, a Ukrainian woman, is engaged in transporting parcels from Denmark to Ukraine and on the way back can pick Mama up and bring her to Denmark. The way is long. At the border with Poland there are queues. We started persuading Mama; she says she will not endure a long journey…. Again my sister and I think what to do.
At last a way out appeared: from Kiev a direct train started running to the Polish border town of Przemyśl! Thanks to a neighbour (he is 71) who bought Mama a ticket and put her on the train, it was possible to take Mama to Denmark to my sister.
For some time we thought through a plan, how to get to the Polish town of Przemyśl. Having our own transport, but not very suited to long distances, we decided to go together with my sister from Denmark by a direct bus, from the city of Aalborg 22 hours on the road, arrive there in the evening, spend the night in a hotel and at 5 in the morning meet the train on which Mama would come. All thoughts were only one — to meet Mama, and how we would go further to Denmark we did not plan, we decided to act according to the situation.
Having packed a minimum of things, having met my sister in Aalborg (before that I got there by ferry 3 hours 15 min and by train 1 hour, and my sister left Copenhagen and travelled 7 hours by train). We met her at 14 o’clock, then walked around Aalborg, whiled away the time, and at 21 o’clock we got on the bus, travelled the night and the whole day and only at 22 o’clock in the evening were we on the spot in the town of Przemyśl. Instead of the promised 22 hours on the road, it was 25 hours. The bus stopped only for 2 minutes; we did not have time to buy coffee or water. Having travelled such a way, we understood that going back like that with Mama would be impossible.
