Friday, August 10, 2007

I've had this crazy thought for a while now: what if Mishah made a mistake at the Obukhiv morgue, what if it wasn't papa? I know it's totally nuts, but imagining papa still wandering there somewhere has helped me to pull myself together a bit. Part of me still doesn't believe it's over.

I've just finished a GV translation on the new Beslan video footage, and besides feeling terribly sad, I suddenly wished I had gone to Obukhiv myself that day, to identify papa's body. After reading so much about the Beslan horror again, I feel I could've survived the morgue experience. But that's an illusion, of course: I'm not that tough.

But yes, I've been able to do some work, though I'm not too good at being around people for too long yet. I've been able to get really upset again about being stuck in Kyiv. We went to Pushcha yesterday, it's such a paradise there, but there're still no rooms at the sanatorium. And Mishah's vacation is almost over. And the summer is almost over, too. Damn.

5 comments:

  1. Oh Veronica.

    It took my wife months to accept her father's death. Just go with it, you can't do much with these thoughts and hopes. I'm really glad that you are still posting and letting us know that you are ok.

    Oscar

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  2. Oh my, I've been away from your blog for soome weeks while moving and it was rather a shock to read it all. My prayers are with your family. It's obviously a shocking and sad way to lose him. Certainly no one deserves such a fate. Your descriptions of how the system in Ukraine failed to work in so many ways is, in its own way, equally as shocking. I guess I hadn't realized how completely broken the society is. All of it is horribly terribly sad.

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  3. Both Yonca and myself kept our eyes on your blog all the time since Misha told us about, and I guess words are not always the best way to give "saosecanje" to ones you know and care about...
    After all this time some wounds will never heal, but I guess after my 28 years, war in Bosnia, Refugee camps, Embargo, NATO bombardment and all these low budget cliché scenarios that go through young head (not willingly) I woke up one morning holding my young brother who was 2 at taht time, and in this particular moment I felt that universe has its own way and that life moves on. Those who are gone will always remain alive in our hearts... in the blood that flows through our children veins...

    Hug Marta for me and hope to see you soon here in Istanbul...

    Mladen

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  4. Dear Veronica, I suddenly wish I could write you in Spanish, I feel like I could choose better words. This is the first time I read your blog in a long time and I am very, very sorry for your loss. I hope that if there is anything I can offer you, that you won't hesitate to ask. In the meantime, you are in my thoughts and prayers.

    This is from one of my favorite books by Clarissa Pinkola Estes. It always brings me peace, maybe you will find comfort in it also:

    In much of western culture, the original character of the Death nature has been covered over by various dogmas and doctrines until it is split off from the other half, Life. We have erroneously been trained to accept a broken form of one of the most profound and basic aspects of the wild nature. We have been taught that death is always followed by more death. It is simply not so, death is always in the process of incubating new life, even when one's existence has been cut down to the bones...Death represents an essential creation pattern. Through her loving ministrations, life is renewed.

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  5. Hope to cheer you up - some news on Gogol Bordello and u can hear some concert footage.
    http://www.npr.org/templates/story/story.php?storyId=12804958

    Hang in there,
    Hello

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