This post I was supposed to publish yesterday, November 6, but alas, the eternal lack of free time did not allow to carry out the plans.
Half a year has passed since the tragic day for our family, six months passed like one day, but the events of this difficult period of life crashed into memory and do not let go until now.
This morning I was in the territory of one base, standing two kilometers from the Central Hospital of Pokrovka, in which our Anushka was in the intensive care unit, and moving from one building to another looked towards the above-mentioned village.
What I saw, I did not like much.
Around clear to the horizon was a clear, clear blue sky, and only dark leaden clouds hung from above the Pokrovka, from which almost to the ground the white streaks descended, in addition there was a strong ice, uncharacteristic for May, an icy wind, as if all the black forces of nature had gathered in one place.
I automatically looked at my watch.
11-20 they showed, and about twelve I got a call and a lively male voice on that end reported that at 11-25 Ani was gone.
Six days of waiting, six days of hope for a miracle, six days of struggle for her life ...
The hardest thing on this day was when I came home to say:
"Be strong son, we do not have more mother."
And I remember the words of the emergency caretaker when I came to the hospital to clarify the details:
"Why did you come? I've said everything on the phone ..."
And I stood looking at his eyes and waiting for very different words, which I had not heard. A simple human "sorry, we could not ...", as they say in such cases.
Come on, God is his judge.
During this time, much has changed in my life.
I loaded myself with work, to distract myself from all thoughts, free time catastrophically is not enough for Inet, lit a cigarette after a nine-year break, lost 30 kilograms, grew a beard. A big plus that did not go into drinking, neither immediately during funerals, nor after them. Alcohol has always been (and I hope it will be in the future) not my companion.
On this day there was one more event in our family. It's been 23 years since Anne-Pope, my father-in-law and grandfather of our children, died.
On November 6, 1994, after a grave illness, the reserve major and a simply good Man Kravchenko Vladimir Markovich passed away. In this old photo, he, along with his very small Anyutka.
It is difficult and unbearably painful to lose relatives, there are not enough warm words, useful advice, and simply communication with relatives for us. And you just want to tell them all. To say what I did not have time to say during my lifetime. For some reason, we are always avaricious about words, only you realize this only after losing your loved ones.
The earth will rest in peace., we will always remember you and love you.
The earth will rest in peace.
Excuse me for the bad English.
Russian text:
photo from archive 
