Listen to the song: “Dear Mother of Mine”
Dear Mother of Mine! Your grave is in Bryansk, Russia, with the inscription on the tomb: “Filina Maria Yakovlevna (1907-1985)”. On June 15 you would have been 104. I know for sure that the regular people do not live so long. But I am your daughter, that means I am your continuation of life. From far-away Canada my thoughts are flying to you, recollecting you, depicting your portrait in thoughts and dedicating verses to you:
“My mama for seventeen years,
Worked at the Railway Road,
Sending greetings to those,
Who needed her work code.
Work models were then: “Stakhanov”,
Among cashiers – the name “Aladin” was,
Country although later turned for worse.
Three times awarded for her life span,
For excellent performance and perseverance,
A loving and caring person herself again,
Showed her compassion for people and brilliance.”
I REMEMBER you how you always welcomed all my class-mates without exclusion even if they dropped by for a minute, you invited them to our kitchen, fed them with what was at the moment at disposal: borshch, pancakes or kasha. My friends were glad to meet you, mama. Maybe because of that I inherited from you this custom to welcome people who came by even for a sec.
This is the photo of my classmates:
I REMEMBER the hands of yours, tired from hard work, never afraid of dirty errands, the hands washing the family clothes for 3 children and a husband, cooking food for us plus our cow Subbotka by name whom we all loved and admired, but mama was the main person who took care of her: cleaned the stable, prepared every day ration for thecow, made hay for winter, at summer time we, the children, were Subbotka’s Shepards. All this happened within the boundary of the city. Until Khrushchev came to power and issued the decree about banning the cattle to have within the city. How pity it was! We were very upset parting our beloved pet. That is where from I have a kind attitude to the animals.
I REMEMBER firm tenderness of yours when once being adult I said to you that I would like to stay with one of my friends separately from you for awhile. But I said it with my angry voice. I was absent for 2-3 days. Meantime you looked for me everywhere as I did not tell you the address where I am going. My intuition prompted me:”Go home!”. And I did. I came home and saw O, God! grief in your eyes: as if something is trembling inside your eye-sockets, as though the tears were frozen in them. Tears of grief. Oh, Lord! What I have done?! I felt guilty in front of you, cried, begging my pardon for I had done wrong. In no time we cried together. I grasped that I offended you, mama, unjust-fully. That is why I am sensitive for other people’s grief. I also inherited this from you, mama . Even now upon recollecting that fact of life the tears come to my eyes and they are rolling out of them uncontrollably and profusely.
DEAR MOTHER OF MINE! I AM MISSING YOU VERY MUCH!
Listen to the song:“Melancolie” by Sophia and Aurica Rotaru