My wife died last year. We have two children left who can stand by the window for hours and wait for her. I have to tell them that their mother went to the sun.
I had to learn to do everything myself: to cook and change clothes, play and educate.
We live with my grandmother. The house has got under fire more than once. The roof, windows, and walls have already been updated. And after all, the blast wave recaptured half of the house. Shells flew over the roof, there was a whistle, then a roar, explosions...
We were hiding from the attacks in a cold basement. We were staying without electricity for weeks. I could barely find words to calm the children.
When I go to work in Mariupol, the children are looked after by their great-grandmother.
