We had to face the war face to face. We are scared to walk in the park as the area around is mined. The sappers never came, and the area was not cleared. They said they would come when the war was over.
Every tree here is a reminder of the peaceful past. I had lived here all my life, and I was left alone at 62. I have five children and nine grandchildren, but my whole family moved out because of the war. Now they are scattered everywhere like shards of glass.
My only solace is the dog Casper. We shared terrible days and nights in the basement. It seemed to me that every minute might be the last minute of my life.
My health has aggravated dramatically, and children rarely and with difficulty manage to break through checkpoints to help me. I remember that the blood pressure increased to 200, so my daughter had to drive all the way from Mariinka to bring me some medicine. And we had a shooting, and she arrived, and I'm lying on the floor, I don't remember anything. Different situations happened.
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The Museum of Civilian Voices of the Rinat Akhmetov Foundation https://civilvoicesmuseum.org/