Age 49, from Moscow, Russia

My mother, Tatiana Nikolaevna Voropaeva, was born in Moscow, in the Preobrazhenska region, on March 25th, 1953.  She was 22 when she finished night school at the Plekhanov Institute of Folk Art in Moscow.  Before her studies, she started working as a laboratory assistant at the IREA research institute, working in pure and applied chemistry.

Mother had many friends.  Her colleagues and classmates loved her joyful, bright character, her empathy, benevolence, and her gentle and peaceful femininity.  Her best friends from school and the institute maintained a close relationship the rest of her life.

After finishing the institute mother remained with the IREA as an economist, and there she met her husband to be, Evgeny, my father.  They married on September 11th, 1976, and within a year I was born, their only daughter. 

For mother family was the whole point of her life, and she considered herself complete.  Father, two grandmothers, a grandfather, and me, we became the objects of her love and untiring care.  During the difficult days of the 1990s, mother left her job and joined a construction company in order to earn a bit more money, and have better opportunities.

Mother and I were always girlfriends, and we shared each other's joys and sorrows.  Together we skied and rode bicycles, we took vacations together at the Black Sea and lower Muscovy resorts.  Mother could not be away from me, even for a few days.  Nonetheless, she was very happy when I met my love and married him.

Mother was not your typical mother-in-law.  She acted delicately, with understanding, and a kind word.  Unfortunately, or domestic joy did not last long.

It was no accident that we were at the musical on October 23rd.  A young relation from the Ukraine, my second cousin, was visiting with us, and mother, as one could expect, was very hospitably planning a "cultural program", including a walk through the center of Moscow, restaurants, and, of course, the Lenkom and Bolshoi theaters. The musical "Nord-Ost" ended up on our list.

Mother gave my cousin and me a lot of support during those awful days at the theater.  Together, it was a bit easier to make it through the terror and keep the hope of rescue alive.  When I awoke in intensive care at Hospital #13, I found out from my grief-stricken husband that, alas, I would never see my mother alive again...

By her daughter Svetlana Surova  

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