9/11

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I often looked at the clock

And time was never at standstill

Sometimes it was there to mock

Sometimes it was there to kill

But the numbers 9 11

They always stood out to me

I caught myself looking

Unconscious….

Today they buried my grandpa

And I wondered if that’s why

If numbers were playing a trick on me

Or if it’s just life?

Today I want you to go and give your family a call, give them a hug, tell them you love them, tell them you miss them… Don’t fight, don’t argue, because at the end of the day it’s not worth it. You all have a purpose and a reason to be here, and it’s to create beauty and love and find that glow!

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I love you all, and I want to say a great big THANK YOU from the bottom of my heart to all of you who have been sending prayers and loving kind thoughts my way. You mean so much to me. I have been crying on and off again today, over 9/11, over my grandfather, and not being able to be in Russia. But I have also been crying happy tears, that I have a loving husband, and a family here, who take care of me. And I know that the Universe is watching over me. I have been seeing signs everywhere, from a hand wave of a small child, to watching a ladybug make it’s way around my chair while listening to the wind chimes at the Sculpture Garden.

Love,

Zhenya

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Grandpa

My grandpa passed away. Дед умер (Grandpa died), was the first thing my mom told me over Skype on Sunday afternoon. I couldn’t hear her well, and went looking for the headphones. She was wearing all black, almost like a prophecy.

When Grandma passed away over 2 years ago, at least I was there. But I knew the drill. The police comes, then the ambulance. Then the agent from the funeral home. They take the body away almost immediately. Put it on a thick plastic sheet, almost dragging it down the stairs… to the car, then to morgue.

Now it’s different, now I am thousands of miles away, with an expired passport, without $1400 to spare on a plane ticket…

And even though his Alzheimer’s got the best of him, a few weeks ago after one of his spasm, he was asking for me. He said: А где наша Женя? (Where is our Zhenya?)

He was so proud of Sam and me for buying the house. I know he kept asking my mom to show him pictures again and again. Of our little house…

We were never orthodox, he was in the KGB, atheist and all, but I know he was baptized and one of the first things I told sam I wanted to do, was go light a candle… I wish I knew how to do it… I am going to learn

While walking around the neighborhood, these words came to me:

And when September comes around,

With clouds and colors and the rain.

I’ll go to St Mary’s to the icons

And light a candle in your name.

I am not much of a poet, nor have I been much of a Christian lately, but I promise to do that, every year…

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