(blog article)

Among the tall pine needles that aromatically greet you in the vastness of the Khmelnytsky forests, you can see the blue-eyed Sluch River. In just ten hours, you will find yourself in the arms of the Khmelnytskyi open spaces, where your grandmother is waiting for you.

Your heart feels that ten hours of travel is not much, and your body resists such overtime, because the seats in the double-decker bus are not very comfortable for people with long legs. But these are such trifles compared to the fact that in a few hours you will again feel the light breeze of the Khmelnytskyi wind, the flavor of the area and people, and most importantly, you will find yourself in the arms of your own grandmother. The grandmother you will finally see after seven months of war.

It is so familiar to drive on this familiar road. The calmness of the thought of the meeting immerses me in a dream that some fairy-tale envelops me in my favorite place. Like in my childhood, I wake up again on the outskirts of the capital. I don’t even know what the dream is about. But unlike my childhood memories of picturesque landscapes and cozy houses I see outside the window, now I see destroyed houses, burned cars, and broken human lives. And so you drive for twenty kilometers. The feelings of devastation, pain and anger overwhelm me completely. After an hour, everything becomes familiar: a long road, favorite cafes where you can take a break, people who are also returning to someone’s arms.

Ten hours pass unnoticed. The bus reaches the bus station where they sell the most delicious coffee. It is bitter, poured into a paper cup, but it is the most delicious for those who have returned home. Another moment and you’re in the arms of your grandmother, who is overjoyed to see her granddaughter. First, she will tell you that you have lost too much weight and need to be fed immediately, then she will tell you about all the neighborhood news. And as long as the conversations are going on, happiness will reign in the air.