March 5, 2015

Grandpa will be buried in a couple hours

Photo by Илья Емельнов — Photo by Илья Емельнов

It's impossible to find a free burial spot in any Moscow cemetery (the cost is $1,500 and up), so my mom and my aunt, being crafty, found one in Rodniki, a small village on the outskirts of Moscow. She said they sat in the cemetery office until the clerks gave them a free spot just to get rid of them.

I have found the picture online you see above, taken by Илья Емельнов. I have found a whole blog post about Rodnikovskoe cemetery and looked at the trees on Google maps street view, and I felt like I was there. Almost. As I'm typing this, the funeral is scheduled to transpire in a couple hours, with my mom, aunt, and cousin present. My sister is sick.

Grandpa couldn't be read the burial service—отпевание (it's when a priest reads a prayer and sings over the body)—because the time had passed for it. It should typically be performed on the third day, and he has been dead for eight now. Mom is devastated about it, and said that at least he let go of his sins himself in his last conversation with her. Or so she believes.

This is a closure to yet another chapter in my strange family's life. And I don't know how to feel about it. Mostly I feel exhausted. I want to sleep and sleep and sleep and wake up tomorrow refreshed and write and read. And one day, if I happen to visit the grave, I will bring flowers.

RIP, grandpa.

March 4, 2015

Grandpa will be buried in 2 days. The adventure continues.

by Ksenia Anske

It's 6 a.m. My mom calls from Moscow. I have to call her back because she can't afford the international phone charges. She's happy. She borrowed money from people, and got some from me, and grandpa won't be cremated but buried, like a proper Christian. She has been religious lately. It helps her. I understand. The funeral will cost $1,000. She's also happy because of all the running around she has lost five pounds.

Now there is a new problem.

February 27, 2015

My grandfather died. An obituary.

by Ksenia Anske

My mom just called from Russia to tell me that my grandfather died. He has been slowly dying over the last several months and was a huge burden on my mom whom he abused her entire life in all kinds of ways. He died in her hands, happy. She said for the last couple of days his demeanor changed, as if he felt his end coming. He stopped screaming insults at her when she tried to feed him or change him, stopped trying to hurt her, grew soft and thoughtful. Their last conversation, she said, was this: