Monologue at the Playground

Elena:
Mama … Mamachka … Just yesterday we were joking and laughing with you … laughing despite everything … laughing … despite the chilling fear, cramping hunger, darkness, and stinky cold of the overcrowded basement of our beautiful condominium … I mean beautiful in a previous life … 

Mom! Since it all started, I realized how unimportant our arguments were then... Disagreements about trivial things took so much of your energy...   "Should Mila know about my breakup with Anton?" Or, "What birthday present to buy for this annoying jerk Grisha who would never open any presents unless he knew he had money in it," and you were against giving him money because you were convinced that … it was not ethical...  

He did not want to go to the basement … He stubbornly refused to go out of his apartment, swearing and saying that he was not going to wipe out of his place just because the so-called “Russkiy World” wanted him to ... Mama …. I will never forget your eyes when we found him in the kitchen …  sprawled on the floor beside the fridge … without his face …
The heartbreaking scream stacked in your throat, and … you had lost your voice for a week … That moment I realized how you loved him. 
We buried Grisha here, on the playground. Here, on the playground, close to the fire pit where we had to prepare our food … We thought … we hoped that after he was reburied in the mass grave, there would be no more new crosses on our playground. 
After that, you refused to speak Russian ... Funny … Before the war, you did not want to speak Ukrainian. You were telling me: “Why should I start speaking THAT language at my age?” You were watching Russian TV and believed them. Everything changed in one day … Mom… Your broken Ukrainian was just “amazing”! But your pronunciation was authentic. Cause even our Russian IS Ukrainian Russian!  

Mamaaa ... Even though all this time we lived waiting for “arrivals” from our fucking “liberators” … I would never think that you ...
YOU!..
Mom … I promise… I will not swear … I will NEVER swear again … after the war … After … Now I have to … to keep myself sane here in front of your grave … on the playground where ... where you were sitting on the bench rocking a stroller with your grandson …
How happy you were when Timka was born! How long-awaited he was, and how shiny were your eyes when you first saw him! You comically warned me that you would never let me do anything. You would do everything by yourself, and I must take care of myself because new moms after 30 should take a lot of care of themselves to get back on track. And you helped a lot. Especially when his dad left us. (CRIES) Just yesterday… We were joking and laughing… And then we cried. And I was holding your dearest hands. And now …
I have to leave you here... on the playground... 
(Volunteer comes to Elena and reminds her that the bus evacuating people from the destroyed Ukrainian city must depart in a moment. He gently takes her away from the makeshift cross over the fresh grave) 
Mama … I will come back. We will come back. Tim is a great fighter. We will win, and you and Grisha will finally be together.