And you won’t see me go to school again, wearing a heavy backpack full of books, in which you managed to sneak sweets to cheer me up during breaktime. I will miss these pleasantries of yours, which you constantly invented and how you constantly surprised with your ingenuity. How much I will miss reading bedtime stories, active weekends in nature, even your sometimes annoying lessons or small punishments, which you often invented as a joke, will be missing.
And you won’t see me going to the altar. In a dress that we chose for a long time together. You would look at me, crying tears of happiness, you would look at my loving smile and ask God for a good fate for me. And I will miss your advice, soulful conversations before going to bed, and soothing words in difficult moments.
And you won’t see how I myself will one day become a mother, making you a grandmother, and I will try to give my child the same happy childhood that you did for me. And I will miss you when I also become a woman to thank and say that you have always been an example for me.
How many more of these heartfelt letters were written: parents to children, children to parents, lovers and friends. How many thousands of lives were broken by the war, how many wonderful people we lost.
And they will never see how prosperous Ukraine has become. The one they longed for and died for. And we will always miss them.