Ukraine. Chongar, 2014

This photo was taken at night in 2014, near Chongar.

We came to see those who were standing at the border.

The war in Ukraine was a shock to us at the time.

Not a gradual realization, but a sudden rupture.

The occupation of Crimea, anxiety, confusion, and the feeling that reality was breaking apart right before our eyes.

The man my mother lived with — her de facto (civil) husband, Dima — entered military service.

He was not accepted immediately — he insisted on being taken.

When events began in Crimea, he was assigned to Chongar, to the border.

At the same time, my son had scheduled judo competitions in Snihurivka, Mykolaiv region.

At that moment, it was an ordinary, peaceful Ukrainian town.

Later, during Russia’s full-scale invasion of Ukraine,

Snihurivka was occupied by Russian forces in March 2022

and liberated by the Armed Forces of Ukraine in November 2022.

We decided in advance that we would go as a family —

first to the competition, and then straight to him, at the border.

We found a small van.

We bought food — for him and for the men who were on duty.

And we set off early in the morning.

As we approached Chongar, I saw a road I will never forget.

Kilometer-long lines of trucks.

We drove alongside them for a long time, and it felt endless.

He contacted us and came out to meet us on the highway.

He was driving a military UAZ.

My mother got into his vehicle, and we followed behind.

We left the highway and moved along a marshy field.

It was night.

Nothing could be seen.

That was when we heard shelling for the first time.

I don’t know what kind of weapons were used.

I only know that it was terrifying.

He stopped the car, came up to us, and said:

“Don’t worry. Everything will be fine.”

We waited until the shelling ended.

Then we moved on.

The meeting was brief.

But that day stayed with us forever.

Back then, we did not yet know how many years this war would last.

But we already understood:

This was not something from the news or politics.

It was life as we were living it —

a life that can break at any moment,

and is held together only by the people who stand between you and fear.