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| By Светлана Губарева |
| Frolova, Vera |
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| Written by свекровь, Фролова Л. Н. | ||||||||
| Пятница, 04 Января 2008 | ||||||||
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Age
31, from
About
Zhenya and Vera Florov Zhenya
was born in 1968, on Monday, the 12th of August. He was my second son. I was a young mother – at age 23 I already
had two sons. ‘Zhenka’ was a wanted, and
well-loved child, in general he was like his older brother Andrey. The boys grew up suddenly and unexpectedly –
crèche, kindergarten, and pioneer summer camp.
They attended School #912 in the Volgograd Region, where among their favorite
teachers was their history teacher Razzhab Muslimovich, and mathematics teacher Nina Maksimovna, as
well as their sometimes too strict class director Nina Ivanovna. School,
lessons, discothèques, and his favorite sport of soccer, it all dashed past so
fast, and then childhood was over. Once
the schooldays were behind him, he did two years of military service in He
came home at the end of 1988, took a month off, and then went to work. He could not live off his parents at age 20! He worked at the USSR Bank as a computer
operator while completing night school. Time
passed. Zhenya met Vera; they fell in
love, and decided to marry.
Unfortunately, at the time ‘Verochka’ (Vera) had been orphaned. She lived alone and worked at the government
research institute. Her mother’s death
left her very shaken, and as a result she suffered from depression. During this time Zhenya gave Vera support and
helped the young girl cope with her first big blow in life. There were dates, attendance at theaters,
parties with friends, and later the wedding.
Vera turned into a loud and happy girl. The
young couple were happy, and it seemed that their happiness would be endless,
but it only lasted 7 ½ years. But during
this time they managed to leave their mark on this world. Verochka
and Zhenya succeeded in building a lovely home with a small but amazing garden
where there were apple, cherry, and plum trees, and, of course, many different
flowers: roses, lilies, dahlias, irises, phlox, zinnia, daisies, and so forth. But most of all, their most prized possessions
were their two remarkable sons, Sasha and Misha. Zhenya
and Vera were good parents and loved their two mischievous boys very much. They tried to spend all their free time with
the children. They went to the circus,
the zoo, and to exhibitions and shows.
They often went to Sasha,
the oldest boy, had the habit of seeing a task to the end, and was very clean
and orderly. They inherited from their
parents a desire to help grandfather and grandmother with their housework and
in the garden. There are many pictures
in the family photo albums where one can see how much the children loved life
with their mother and father. Zhenya
worked a lot, but he only worked so that neither the children nor their mother
would feel any want, and worked to buy appliances for the house. Zhenya did not wish for Vera to be overwhelmed
in household chores, which everyone knows are rarely noticed but rather
difficult. Youth,
a huge amount of energy and great love her children and husband, all this gave
Verochka the strength to keep the home in order, and her husband and children
well-fed and neatly dressed. On
birthdays and other family holidays, many young guests would come to celebrate
with Zhenya and Vera: Vera’s girlfriends with their husbands and children,
Zhenya’s friends, and his older brother also with his family. There was always enough for everyone. Vera and Zhenya together would whip up a
bunch of salads and other dishes, and for tea Vera always baked cookies, her
specialty. A very happy and tasty time
was to be had by all. Their
toils increased when they bought a plot of land in the country. They began to build a cottage, and to work
the soil. In general it was work, work,
work, and mostly just the two of them, but within two years they had fruit
trees, and their garden was producing. Vera
loved to work in the earth, and prepared for winter with canned fruits and
vegetables, jams and jellies. She put
her heart into it and wished for everyone to enjoy her “supplies”, as she loved
to call them. And how many mushrooms did
they gather, dry, freeze, and marinate!
Zhenya could scarcely manage to get it all back to their apartment in Their
nice, pretty house was finished in October of 2002, and they expected to spend
the whole next summer with the children at the dacha, in peace and happiness. But
life decided otherwise. On
the evening of October 23rd I went to their apartment to babysit the
grandchildren while Vera and Zhenya went to the show. Vera gave me her last instructions – what to
feed the boys, what time to put them to bed.
It was Wednesday, and Misha had to go to kindergarten the next day, while
Sasha had to be up for school. Just as
the boys had fallen asleep, my husband called and said: “Turn on the
television…” And
so began days of uncertainty, of horror, of waiting, and, of course, hope. Hope that it would all end well, hope that an
agreement could be reached between the terrorists and our government and the
president. Hope that, in the end, all
the hostages, tormented and emaciated by their three-day famine and the
mockeries of terrorists, would return home alive and whole to their families,
some to their parents, husbands, and wives, some to their children. But our dear
Zhenya and Verochka were never to return to us. My
Zhenechka and Vera died the same day and at almost the same hour, just like in old
fairytales where young couples swear eternal love to the grave. And thus it happened, only it was not a
fairytale, but real life where death touches the young who are full of life’s
strength, and plans for the future, “practically healthy” people. And it is horrible, it is unjust, it is
uncivilized, it is impossible to believe, but this is how it is. Sasha
and Misha were suddenly orphaned and are never again to pronounce those words
most dear to every person: Mama and Papa.
My husband and I were deprived of a loving son, Andrey and Yulia lost a
brother, and Zhenya’s many friends lost a true and loyal friend. My husband and I lost our happy and kind
daughter, the loving mother of Sasha and Misha. There
is emptiness and desperation in our hearts.
The grandchildren or so small...
Oh, Lord, give us the strength, and, most of all the health, to raise
them. It
has been five years since the tragedy.
The pain of the loss of dear and loving children does not ebb; it has
become a sharp splinter in our hearts and will torment and torture us the rest
of our lives. One
hopes that these simple recollections about Zhenya and Vera will be read by their
children and friends so that they could recall their smiles, laughter, voices, and
their faces, which are now forever young.
- by
her mother-in-law, L.N. Frolova Add as favourites (44) | Views: 1949 | E-mail
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