I am crying my eyes out for 3 hours straight now. Last I cried like that 17 years ago when my mom passed away. I was on my way to pick her from the hospidal. I got her, after endless fights with various unknown enemies, a new spot in new hospidal that was just 1 kilometre away from my home. I packed my newborn in, it was winter. Annoying, cold, dark. Put my baby to the basket kind of thing you carry them around these days. I have no idea what they are called. l was already sweating like pig. I had all documents ready, ready to go. She was in a hospidal about 40 minutes drive away. Te unknown enemies told me there is no point in trying to get her walk again. They claimed she had no reflexes on her left side. When I tickled her feet she reacted. The unknown enemies told me she is not right in the head anymore. When I talked to her she was there and adequate. Recognised us all. She even recognised my newborn she had not seen at all. And she started to speak to baby in English because that was my homelanguage and she realised she would speak English so baby would understand 🙂 her. 

So I got dressed, took baby and my purse and started to get out of my home. Just about to lock the door when I received a call. I collapsed right there and then. I only heard heavy breathing. Heard that mom passed and I said thank you for letting me know. Tears were pouring down on my face. I could not see a thing. I sat on the stairs of the communal area in our building, the building of apartments. I could not see or hear I guess. Or, it was so quiet. I don’t know. My baby was always screaming his lungs out. But not now. He looked devastated. He read my mind. I was broken. My rock is gone. My rock. MY. ONLY. She even didn’t bother to stick around. Whatta cunt!!! For everyone else she was grandma, for every single one of the 7 grandkids. But for me she didn’t bother.  What am I thinking?!? She was paralyzed. What stick around??? Thoughts, contraditing in severe way, were running through my head and the tears were running as constant. I didn’t know such amount of water is anywhere in my body just waiting for release. I have to go. I have to go. I kept on repeating to myself that. I have to go. But why? No point anymore. The reason for todays trip was gone. No point to waste time, money, nothing on someting that is gone. Nonexcistent. No relocation anymore. No massages, no therapies, no nothing is needed. They won. They who didn’t believe in her. They who tied up her one working hand so she couldn’t press the “help” button. Yes, I documented it, saved on video. The view on your mom, who was young, just 68 years old, tied up on the bed so that the working hand was tied up to the railings of the bed with some sort of a rag. Dirty rag. That’s how they treat people here. In poor countries. Post Soviet countries, still. After gaining our independence from the shithole of a “country” Ruzzia more than 30 years ago. With leftovers from soviet erat that sometimes work wonderfully but not when it comes to elderly people. Heeh, taking care of elderly was crap even in Soviet union. It was no care at all. Literally. Nonexcistent. And it is so today too. 

All of it is, ofcourse, result of multiple factors combined. We are poor. Staff in hospidals is certainly underpaid. Hell, the medical first line worker, some nurse, in the hospital where my mom passed – she had NO eduation! She had learned 9 years in school and worked in pigfarm before she was called out to help out this particular floor in this particular hospital  – the “deemed dying floor”. And yes, you don’t really need any education to mop the floors, and pour water to the half dead people. Nothing else to do there. 

So I told to my newborn, with the most calm voice I could find in me, to stay quiet, it’s shitty time today, we need to be calm and get going, no yelling, no nothing. My newborn who had been screaming nonstop for the first hours of his life…. he understood. In hindsight I can say he never ever understood again until he went to kindergarden at 3 years old. I thought I was handed a freak, mutant beast, whose goal was to scream his lungs out 24/7 and boy, did he obey the orders. 

For the next year I have no recollection of anything. My baby was screaming nonstop. At home he slept 15 minutes maximum. However, in a MOVING CAR it was a different story. But let me tell you, if you are sleepdeprived for a week, for a month, for a half year, it is NOT good idea to go on diving around the city just to get your baby to sleep. And even more, let me tell you – depending on where you live there will be either accident or extremely angry drivers beeping and cursing you. I had no accidents. I realised early on it’s a bad idea to drive around. But I took on takeaway latte with huge “hat” of whipped cream on top, a cherry pie and I was in heaven. I was driving around in the graveyard. With coffee. But the fact that I had not been able to sleep for 5 months in a row caught me. I just parked the car, kept the engine on and slept. A whole 7 minutes. Because the car was not moving he woke up. Posessed. Yelling so loud that he could not breathe anymore, all blue from face. 

So. The crying today. I ran into TikTok music video that cut me in pieces. Bringing back the memories from teenage years when I was homeless. Homeless in a country where winters are freezing, – 10C is pretty normal. Today. That time I witnessed temperatures of – 25C. In “american” it means – 13F. That was common that time before all the global warming hit in. And let me tell you, the song swept me off from my feet so badly, I again realised the amount of water in me that was just waiting for the release order for 17 years. I cried so that I could not see around me. The song of one of the artists that kept me alive in -25C/ -13F was “Hold on” by Tom Waits. I was just prepping quich lorraine and parisian applepie when the TikTok feeded me this and it hit me like a freighttrain. I was paralyzed. Within few seconds my chest was wet from tears, I could not see nor hear anything around me. I could not finish the baking. 

When I was homeless for almost two years, from when I was about 14 years old, I had nothing. We as a nation became free not long before. Together with Latvia, Lithuania and Ukraine. Together with Latvia and Lithuania we created a human chain of som 600 kilometres long, throughout all of our Baltic countries. Then ruzzians killed some people in Lithuania, shot dead or ran over with tanks. We were on the verge. But we had own money now. Getting own currency was proud moment for us all. Except when people had gathered some riches they lost everything. The people who had savings to start someting when the time was right lost everything. My mom had rather huge sum of rubles that she wanted to use to start some business. Now, the ruzzians left, leaving trail of shit behind them. We got independence and own money. The exchange of rubles to our cronor however, was disasterous. It was fixed sum on each person, adults had slightly more than kids. But anyways, mom went to the bank to get our new own money, had all documents with her. She got the money for all of our family which was supposed to be total of every persons monthly allowance. Sort of. A sum that you had to live for a month. My share was 10 kronor, crowns. I went to Midsummers fest few days later. I remember so vividly there were people proud, happy, excited, of our freedom, of getting rid of them orcs. I also remember vividly there was all the banned things in broad daylight – the capitalism literally exploded! We had chewinggum! We had beer in cans! Until that time we only could see them in a special KGB guarded foreign shop in our capital. And that shop did not even let you in if you did not have Finnish marks with you. Or German, or US or any foreign strong currency. You could only buy chewinggum if you had familymember that was a sailor. Apart of sailors nobody could go abroad. Or maybe a pilot. But they were followed by KGB on daily basis. 

So I went to Midsummers party with my monthly allowance of 10 kronor. That was when I thought living in soviet union was better than being free. With all the festive people and the shaschlik, national dances – stupid, right – huge fire and homemade beer that no party was ever complete I also saw a stand (very new thing for us) with Finnish stuff. And there it was. Canned beer. Lapin Kulta. The distinctive colours I recognised immediately. How, you ask, can you recognise Finnish banned canned beer if it was all so forbidden? Yes, let me tell you. It was times of limited possibilities. But we, as a nation living by the sea, and being all sailors and so, fancied all the colourful foreign things. We, honestly, asked the sailors to bring us the cans, the colourful stuff, the candies, real COFFEE, and the richest ones asked and prepaid for the sailor friend to bring JEANS. The soda cans however were not for kids. Nor had I any sailor friends. But that made me even more eager to collect the cans. Empty cans! I had whole wall covered with different cans! Sprite, Coke, beers from various places but mainly Finland. I also collected candy papers. Colourful little papers. Shiny little papers. We didn’t have them in Soviet union. We swapped!!! Can you imagine to have a fight over an empty beercan? Oh, yes. ’til bleeding!

So I recognised the Lapin Kulta can. I had two of Lapin Kulta beercans at home, empty ofcourse. And I decided I want to try it. I went, 12 years old, and saw the price was 5 kronor, crowns. Half of my monthly allowance. Half of what a person should live for for a month. I ordered one can of Lapin Kulta. I got it, went to see the huge fire, sat down near the fire to keep me warm and there and then I tasted the freedom. Expensive freedom. I was happy, confused, scared. All at once. As how to survive for the remaining month with money that is worth just one small beer. 

If I could do it as a teenager… you can do it. I survived 2 winters on the streets when we had nothing. There was just 6 homeless people then!! Even being homeless was all new to us. In soviet union being homeless was forbidden. Also, being handicapped was forbidden :). I tell you more about on how the grass was painted green back then.

Price of freedom. Lapin kulta. Nobody can take away the beer from me. I think that first Laping kulta sensation, freedom, all the emotions was one of the moments that made me. Lapin kulta means Lapland gold. Well. I have not tried Lapland gold after that one time. I now feel the need to get one, to see if the taste bring back some memories. I might get one. Will let you know if that hit me like a freighttrain too.

Hold on.

Slava Ukraini.