Seattle diary of the Ukraine war: 3/9/23
It is 7:15 am on March 9, 2023. A morning just like many others over this past year. I woke up in a very peaceful mood and hesitantly checked on YouTube for the news update from the Ukrainian theater front, as I do every morning. Today I could not find a video for March 9, 2023. Distracted by my dogs and morning routine, I did not think much of it. I’ll find the video once I get on my drive to work. It’s kind of nice to allow the peace of the morning to fill every minute of this new start.
I got in the car about two hours later and, unusually, saw a couple of message notifications from my mom, along with a missed call. I usually call my mom in the Czech Republic and sister in Ukraine on the way to work, so a jolt of adrenaline instantaneously got me fully awake. I pulled out of my driveway and called in our family group. Thankfully, both Mom and Irene picked up right away.
“Mommy, are you working so hard that you just couldn’t wait another hour before my call?” I joked.
“No, it’s the bombings and artillery attacks again. Irene wasn’t answering the phone, so I thought I’d call you.”
“Bombings?! I haven’t heard or seen anything. My YouTube updates didn’t load this morning.”
“Oh, girls!” my sister chimed in. “All is well. I had one of the most productive nights of my life today.”
Silence followed from me and Mom. Irene gathered that her bittersweet joke did not land as she planned, so she explained. “Well, you know how I’ve been super busy at work lately?” We mm-hmm’ed. “Around 1:00 a.m., these cockroaches (russians) decided to ‘congratulate’ us on International Women’s Day and began a full-scale air attack. I can’t remember how many or what they fired, but it lasted for seven hours. I’ve been in the bomb shelter since about 1:15 with my laptop and actually got caught up somewhat. It’s 8:15 or 8:30 now, and I’m walking home.”
Naturally, all of the peace and calm that I felt inside seeped away so quickly that I did not even notice it until she was done talking. I realized that I no longer felt the fired-up hatred inside me. It was now indifference. They will continue to break all rules of warfare and actively continue to bomb Ukrainians. Ukraine will win, and such is the price of freedom.
Mom confirmed the news and let us know that she had already called everyone. Irene informed us that everyone was alive and okay among those she had contacted.
“How’s Val’a?” one of them asked.
“I don’t know,” I said.
I didn’t know, since lately contact with Val’a had been spotty and I hadn’t talked to her in over two weeks. “I will try and call her again as soon as we hang up.” As always, I felt like a bad niece, and at the same time knew there was nothing to blame either me or my aunt for. This was just life, and we lived it the best way we could.
I asked them if they had heard about Denis, Ilya, and a few other friends, neighbors, and acquaintances. Denis, Mom informed us, after bringing his friend’s tortured body back to Odessa for burial, had decided to join military intelligence. Ilya was still at Bakhmut, and there had been no updates since he went back to the front after recovering from a serious concussion. Everyone else who was at the front, as far as they knew, was still alive.
I was taking the exit off of Interstate 5 to my work. Tears were welling up in my eyes and my sinuses were predictably swelling, preventing me from breathing as I held back the full outburst of emotion. I had to run a meeting in three minutes, and I did not want to bring all my negativity to the team. I asked my mom and sister to hold strong, told them that all will be well and that I am with them in my soul every single moment, and said that I was pulling in to work and had to go. We said good-byes and “with God”.
I hung up the call, took a deep breath with my mouth, checked my face for traces of running mascara, grabbed my purse, and stepped out into the cold Seattle spring morning. “Ukraine will win. God, please help and protect the guys and girls at the front.” With these words in my head as a mantra, and with a chest full of desire to bring the joy and peace I had gathered first thing this morning, I entered my clinic to begin a weekly meeting.
Yuliya Shirokova is at work on a memoir, Light in the Fields, to be published by Blue Ear Books. You can read excerpts here and here.
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