On being a refugee…
It’s the road.
It’s the pain of loss.
It’s the unknown.
It’s saying good-bye to your husband.
It’s losing your home.
It’s loss of life.
It’s new encounters.
It’s wonderful people.
It’s weird and nasty people.
It’s meeting your best and closest friends in a foreign land.
It’s tears of joy and loss.
It’s envy that people outside your country have a life.
It’s envy when you see a man in a car from Ukraine.
It’s the joy and terrible pain when you meet people from your country on the road.
It’s the empty, bottomless, dark, profound uncertainty.
It’s the constant pain in your soul that won’t let go of you and grows into pain in your body.
It’s the wonderful people (once again!) who open up their homes to you, let you into their families, and take responsibility for your life and the lives of your children.
It’s disillusionment. The war has laid bare everything—your relationships, your views, and your understanding.
It’s all the wretched animals on the road.
It’s the anticipation of victory!