~Tailel

February 24th was two years since the war began...
Difficult - and sometimes productive - two years...

I still remember those five mornings when I woke up to the sound of an explosion. I thought that something had fallen (haha, a rocket had fallen), but my parents urgently got me up and forced me to pack my things - I was taking the children to the village from my military camp...
I remember how, while waiting for the car, I walked along the street in an atmosphere of general panic with the dog and tried to calm down with this - but my heart was beating somewhere in my throat...

Then I left with the children and their dog - my dog, cat and parents stayed at home.
On the way, I stopped for a snack at Silpo - where people were raking everything off the shelves and I miraculously picked up a pack of Skittles and that was my only sweet for the next 4 months.

We arrived in the village. And if the nephews were grandchildren there, then I was a complete stranger to those around me. I took responsibility for the puppy and just tried to be patient.
Nights in clothes.. 4 hours of sleep a day - all I could afford - I went to bed at 24:00 and got up at 4:00 - I had to walk the dog, because it was a puppy and he could not stand it any longer - and during the day no one let me sleep.

Descent to the basement. Shelling... Constant calls with parents.
I was lucky that the day before I felt like I bought two bags of food for the dog. Where the puppy who stayed with me survived on cereals - they were not digestible and he looked like a skeleton - my dog received adequate nutrition until my arrival and the start of postal work...

then the news about the shelling of the town - a call to the family and my mother’s phrase: “How did you know? What did Alina tell you?” Fortunately, nothing happened... that day the kindergarten, which was located across the street from my house, was shelled - but everyone survived. Only my dad's finger was injured by glass - not critical, just a scratch.

After 4 months of evacuation, I returned home with a skeleton puppy in the first car. I left the children with their grandmother - and my sister, who had arrived by that time.

I cleaned up the puppy, calmed down - I felt better at home.
I submitted the documents, entered the institute for free education - the beginning of my studies in veterinary medicine.

October 14, 2022... my father dies in the hospital. Diabetes, which he never had. We suspect that his health deteriorated due to stress... He got worse in a week - but we sent him to the hospital by force... It didn’t help him.

Studying again, trying to get distracted. My mom helped - after all, I had a difficult relationship with my dad and losing him was... easier than it could have been.

31.1.2022 - a rocket arrives in our town. At 4 o'clock in the morning - fortunately, without casualties.. It was a difficult new year.

The next highlight is summer practice at the university. River, fun, trip to the farm. It seemed that the war had receded for a moment... 07/21/2023. At 10 am I am tormented by a strong desire to call my mother. But she asked not to call. Three hours later... she doesn't answer the phone. News about a missile hitting her work... hours of searching and not understanding what to do - I was only able to go home the next morning. at 17:19 my sister’s husband calls me... They found my mother. Dead. Polytrauma - even if she had been found right away, it would hardly have helped; she died instantly.
honestly - a month in the fog. The funeral, getting ready to travel with the dog, how I received permission to live with the dog in the university dormitory... All this was so wrapped in a veil of GRIEF... And I had to be strong.. To calm my sister down. So as not to irritate the children... I could only give vent to my grief by going out into the forest - hugging a dog and howling into its neck... To be calm in public.

That day divided life into before and after the second time. The first is the beginning of the war.
In fact, I thought I would calmly write this and let it go. But the tears flow on their own and I hug the dog again.

It just so happened - the war took away from me all the people with whom I could be a weak little daughter... Now I have to be a strong adult woman for all the people...
Not for animals - fortunately, they will never condemn you for weakness

I wish this would all end faster... I already want peace...