Flowers, home, and hope
Conversations with my loved ones who became refugees and a new poem.
My Ukrainian mother-in-law loves orchids. She used to have many of them in her apartment in Kyiv: dozens of pink, white, and purple blooming plants. When Russians started the full-scale invasion two years ago, she left her home in a hurry with only a few suitcases and a cat. The orchids were left behind. She kept thinking of them and mentioning them in every conversation. She said they were like her babies and felt so bad that she abandoned them. A year later, she briefly visited Kyiv to take care of legal and personal matters. We knew that it would be very emotional for her to come back to her empty apartment. It was a long and exhausting journey from Poland, and she spent more than 20 hours on the road. We were glued to our phones – checking the messages and the news about continuous missiles and drone attacks on Kyiv and the destruction they caused. My mother-in-law didn't text us as expected, and my husband called her, fearing that something bad happened. When she eventually picked up, she said: “I’m home. All my orchids died. I’m in the middle of cleaning. I have to go. Bye,” and hung up the phone. The next day, she messaged that she threw all the orchids away. When my husband visited his family in Poland this year, he noticed that there was not a single plant in the apartment. He proposed to buy some, but my mother-in-law refused. She said that she doesn’t want to buy any new plants only to leave them to die again.
Today is my mother-in-law’s birthday. She is spending it far away from her home again. My husband ordered a gift delivery: a big bouquet of pink, white, and purple flowers. I hope they brought her joy and, for a moment, transported her back to peaceful times. The times when dozens of orchids bloomed in her house, and missiles and bombs were only in the movies, not in the sky.
Last week, I talked to my mom, who is also a refugee in Poland. She shared that she finally bought plants for her apartment. She added: “Before, I thought my life here was temporary. I didn’t want to buy any plants or decorate the apartment. Now, I accepted that I’m not coming back home. You know, we always had flowers on every windowsill back in Belarus. So, today, I went and bought several plants. I finally realized that this is my home now, and a home must have flowers.” It’s already been three years since she moved to Poland, and she has only begun to accept it. I think this is probably also why my mother-in-law doesn’t want to buy any plants. As if she buys orchids for her Polish apartment, it would mean that she settled and is never coming back to Ukraine. Orchids became a symbol of hope that the war is not forever, and that everyone will eventually come home.
You can’t imagine how much I wish that our mothers didn’t have to go through so much hardship late in their lives. They worked hard for years and loved their jobs, raised kids, and filled their homes with warmth, love, and flowers, only to leave everything and flee to a foreign country. At first glance, they have different reasons why they became refugees. However, if you look closer, you will realize that it’s all caused by Russian imperialism and the desire of Russians to rule all over the neighboring countries and, ideally, over the world. It takes different forms: from the most violent and horrific, such as wars, to the least noticeable, as political repressions and the support of dictatorship regimes. I’m yet to see any Russian opposition that proposes real change in their country, not a polished version of the same Russian dominance. I’m yet to see the West learn from its mistakes and avoid the trap of endorsing another Russian messiah who will “finally lead the poor but great Russian people to the beautiful Russia of their dreams.” Until people start to see the root of the problem, which is Russian colonial mindset and imperialism, they will continue treating the symptoms, and neither I nor my Belarusian and Ukrainian families will be able to come home.
Recently, I wrote a new poem. I thought it was absolutely unrelated to my mom's and mother-in-law's experiences and feelings, however, now I see how everything is connected: flowers, home, and hope.
Orchids My work is to translate the war to people. In a literal way at my job and through the words from my heart. I look out the window. The sun is shining, spring has come. I wonder how to keep it around because the war kills all the flowers inside and out. So, I buy blooming orchids at the store to always have flowers at home. They bloom as long as they can but never again. I have a collection of healthy-looking plants with something invisible broken inside so they don’t bloom anymore. Maybe they don’t want to bloom in the world like this. I think they remind me of someone I know. Probably me. I keep buying new blooming orchids and fill my life with them just like I fill it with people I love, or with moments of joy. I often think about building a wall inside my chest so no war can reach and destroy the most precious part of my heart so one day, just like an orchid, it can bloom again.
Warmly,
Darya
Email: daryazorka@substack.com
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My friend who stayed in Kyiv during spring 2022 helped herself and friends by going around to their apartments, clearing out fridges - and collecting their surviving plants and small pets. The refugee hamsters lived out their lives with her until natural death; she still has 'refugee plants' in her bedroom and hopes to return them or their descendants to their original owners one day.
I am glad I read this, even though your essay has much sadness and loss. You help me see history and current events through the lives of real people, fellow human beings who in your essays become my brothers and sisters, parents and children, friends and neighbors.
And it is good to read the comments from other people who also care.