And brings back troubling memories for me of the sacrifices that wives and mothers made in another war, a civil war in South Asia.1
When I met Olesia a couple of months ago, I only knew that she was here in my little university town with her two children because of the war in Ukraine. I didn’t think much of the fact that her husband was back in Ukraine, as I have met so many individuals and families separated from their loved ones for different reasons — the most obvious and impactful being the ban on most men aged 18 to 60 years leaving Ukraine now. Being inside Ukraine doesn’t necessarily mean they are actively fighting on the front lines of war, but they can potentially be conscripted to fight anytime with some training. I know a few men of different ages and backgrounds in Ukraine now who have neither voluntarily signed up to go to the front lines nor have been ordered to report. Some have children to raise, others are catching up on things they didn’t have time to do earlier, and at least one is a war photographer. Those I know personally, periodically text or post about sirens, shelters or instances of neighbors’ actions and community’s courage.
Olesia made an impression on me with her friendliness, warmth and charm. She didn’t just smile with her lips. Her smile began in her eyes and spread to her mouth, cheeks, and kind face, while her entire body communicated the language of goodwill and cordiality. She spoke little about herself but was genuinely interested in getting to know the people around her in my home the day we met. She had this unusual but charming way of drinking her wine — with ice cubes in it, like I would drink a cocktail. She relished my cooking not just with polite words, but with an enthusiasm that makes a mediocre cook like me beam with pleasure. She didn’t seem to mind the chaos and crowd in my small kitchen; instead looked totally at home in the center of all the noise and whirlwind, happily blending into the noise and bustle. When she realized her two children were in the same school as my son, her conversation went in the direction of loving humor about her kids and their goofy adventures in their new school system. Olesia loved my dog, Lulu, and proved it by taking umpteen pictures of Lulu and airdropping them into my photo album. It turns out that Olesia loves taking pictures and considers photography her serious hobby. I don’t remember if it even occurred to me to ask her if she had left behind a dog or cat, even though I know that many Ukrainians have been forced to do so and struggle with the decision. I have even written about it here.
Imagine my shock when, just before Ukrainian Easter Sunday and as I was planning for a gathering, I come to hear that Olesia is back in Ukraine to bury her husband who was killed in combat. As I had met her only this calendar year, I was unaware that her story had been told by our local media when she first arrived last year. I don’t think of myself as living under a rock, but I was clearly the last to know. And some of my ignorance can be explained by Olesia’s resolve to keep everyday life as normal as possible for the sake of her children and to not let the realities of this war dictate their day-to-day preoccupations as a family this far away too. That seems like a tall order: To stoically relegate the ongoing war to the back burner even when their very presence in this country, without an accompanying husband/father, is a result of that war. I have seen a similar resolve before, as I explain in my footnote below.
In April of last year, Olesia and kids were interviewed on CNN. You can find it on Facebook here. Here are two local TV news clips, one from last year where you can see her lovely children and another from this year after the news of her husband’s death.
Kostyantyn Semchynskyy, Olesia’s husband, was a professor of political science before joining the army voluntarily to fight the Russian invaders. He was killed in battle and received a hero’s funeral. Вічная Пам’ять (Vichnaya Pamyat) — Eternal Memory! He was killed a few days after his own father’s death. So Olesia’s children lost both their dad and granddad in a matter of a few days. There were to be difficulties with U.S. re-entry visa for Olesia going back to Ukraine for her husband’s funeral, but — small mercies — those seem to have been temporarily taken care of. This young family needs to at be together during these difficult times (and together with Kostyantyn’s mother, who lost her husband and son in a matter of a few days).
A GoFundMe page has been set up for Olesia by her neighbors and friends in our small town with a big heart.
All media links used in this write-up:
https://www.gofundme.com/f/kostyantyn-semchynskyy?utm_medium=referral&utm_source=unknown&utm_campaign=comms_2vp4+kostyantyn-semchynskyy
https://www.wlfi.com/news/i-just-want-to-go-home-ukrainian-family-in-west-lafayette-escapes-what-they-call/article_d6fa6636-b011-11ec-9291-4369e70df0a7.html
https://www.purdueexponent.org/city_state/article_3430e5b0-0926-11ed-872e-fbe49a810194.html
https://www.wlfi.com/news/ukrainian-refugees-in-west-lafayette-mourn-loss-of-husband-father/article_0faa2f44-c956-11ed-a818-6733aec50c05.html
https://www.facebook.com/kostyantyn.semchynskyy
https://www.wlfi.com/video/ukrainian-soldiers-family-in-west-lafayette-desperately-seeks-to-lay-him-to-rest/video_5253ed5f-50aa-58cd-8fd2-627b6feb8242.html
https://www.wlfi.com/news/update-widow-receives-temporary-protected-status-returning-to-ukraine-to-bury-husband/article_bb9def02-cd11-11ed-aaac-8fcdfc922818.html
https://www.latimes.com/opinion/story/2022-04-11/ukrainian-refugees-pets-war
https://t.me/UkraineNow/31868?fbclid=IwAR3FKWBwvH9BxG62urcqX6CM7pWU0SxnXkFKRflRAK8PCJiEaIM04vgnAiU
******
If you are near Bethesda, MD, and are looking for a way to support Ukraine, a group called US Ukrainian Activists is having a Paint Night fundraiser on the 29th of August. If you are like me, sheepish about going to do something that sounds like fun for the benefit of those who are suffering immensely, it helps to remember that A. It is a fund raiser; B. You get to meet like-minded people who may or may not populate your immediate social and professional circles. Focusing on the bigger picture is the way to go so you can act on your determination and conviction to provide help in the long-term.
As seen on Facebook:
After the premeditated ‘Black July’ pogrom in Sri Lanka in 1983, my family in Madras/Chennai housed several Tamil refugees and some Tamil political leaders and their families, some of whom are now decades-long family friends. The horror stories I heard as a young teen, from Tamil youth and families, about the terror and humiliation at the hands of both the Sri Lankan army and violent Sinhalese mobs were reinforced by the steady disappearance of people, especially young people, that I had come to meet over the course of a few years. Yet, those who were left behind — widows, children, friends, lovers, aged parents did not cry out in despair and anguish forever. The more they lost, the more heightened their resolve to live, to carry on, to fight injustice in multiple ways.