Picked up my new travel passport yesterday, at last. Have a nice trip, they said. Thanks.
Walked up the hill to Zoryanyi. Past the police department where they weren't doing anything to help us find papa last year, until an order came from up above for them to get involved. Could've taken a bus to the Botanical Garden there, just like last year. Only this time I didn't.
Walked past the tennis courts hidden in the backyards across the street from Zoryanyi, where papa used to work occasionally. Told Marta about him, and about his tennis, and about all the kids he taught how to play.
- What's his name? - Marta asked.
- Igor. Igor Sergeyevich, - I said.
- And what's his name now?
- What do you mean? It's the same, it hasn't changed: Igor Sergeyevich.
And then I realized that I must've been talking in the past tense about papa - yego zvali instead of yego zovut. That there is one person, Marta, to whom I can talk about him in the present tense, to avoid the confusion, somehow made me feel better.
Past tense is always very sad.
ReplyDeleteS.
But surely you still talk to your father in your head? I know I do when there is something special he would have liked.
ReplyDeleteOne of my kids when she was young, said she felt sorry for me as I was an orphan. I had to explain that I had had parents :) and I could still talk to them in my head, so she didn't need to feel bad now. We spent quite a long discussing how talking "in your head" to people worked.
I hope it eventually gets better.
Nice blog good!
ReplyDeletei m writing about Kiev too on my blog. If you want to check, type: www.kievnotes.blogspot.com
Best Regards
Nice story.
ReplyDelete30 years have passed since my dad passed away, and he still goes with me wherever I go. As Helene said, I talk to him in my head. He is a very important part of my life... I miss him so much!