Thursday, August 29, 2013

Sudak, Crimea. August 2013.

Two days ago D got a phone call from the states. His father had passed away at 4 AM that morning.

It's so hard- how does a son say goodbye to the dad that he's always known?

How does a wife say goodbye to the man she loves?

How does a teacher say goodbye to the student who struggled with this perplexing English language but never gave up learning?

How do children say goodbye to a parent who was always ready to help, whether the distance was 350 wintery miles on an Alaskan highway or 13 hours on a trans-Atlantic flight?

Things are kind of messy right now, everywhere. There's a hole in the fabric of our shared reality.

It's easy to look back on these pictures that D took at the beginning of August, on a brief trip back to his boyhood home, and wish we could go back to that time before the phone rang two days ago.

Kharkov train station

Simferopol, Autonomous Republic of Crimea

Crimean sausage shop "Friendship"
one of D's childhood haunts
sunset along the coast (Sudak)
in D's childhood apartment
Simferopol train station


  1. I am so, so sorry. My heart goes out to Denis and to you.

    1. Thank you for your kind words, Emily. You know better than most that it hasn't always been smooth sailing, but it was a worthy journey in the end.

  2. A sad news... and a great loss for you, friends.