Generation Grown | BANDERA FELLA

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I open my eyes, and she's lying next to me, murmuring her last words, "Everything is fine with me, I'm just lying here." As I turn to her, and saw her wounds—Time has forever frozen, looping that momment in my horrors. Her words are haunting in my mind, a future she dreamed of, "I want us to go somewhere together," "I want us to celebrate the New Year together." But the New Year was tough, cursed by her absence.

I hold onto the earrings she once wore, a tangible memory of her. When the war started, we packed hurriedly—jewelry, documents, essentials stuffed into one bag, still untouched, still lying there as if waiting for her return.

I miss her cooking, the unique comfort of her bakery, and most of all, just talking to her. The war took her away. She died before my eyes, but I did not give up. At just 18 I had to shoulder the responsibility for four younger siblings after the Russians killed our mother.

My mom.

The world spun off its axis the day I lost Mom—she was my best friend, the cornerstone of my existence. Now, every morning as I open my eyes, the weight of her absence presses down on me, an agonizing thought of what was snatched away. She was the laughter in our house, the one who soothed scraped knees and mended broken spirits with the same gentle hands. Now, those hands are gone, and it’s up to me to keep those same pieces together.

My younger siblings, they don’t fully understand the permanence of our loss. They still ask, "When will Mom come back?" Each time, my heart breaks anew as I muster the courage to mold the harsh truth into words they might grasp. We all miss her terribly—her warmth, her meals, her talks. The day she left us, the day the Russians tore her from our world, is terrorizing my soul with a hatred so deep it's marrow-bone cold. Forgiveness is a foreign concept for such an act; I cannot, I will not forgive them.

But in this storm of loss and rage, I stand firm in my resolve. Mom, don't worry about us. I've taken this new life thrust upon us with honor and determination. I will build the future for our family, one where no one can ever tear us apart again. I'll do everything to give my brothers and sisters the future you dreamed for us, the life you worked so hard to ensure we could one day claim. Every step forward will be a tribute to your love. We will not crumble; we will thrive, in your memory and in your honor.