It’s impossible to describe our feelings at that moment of seeing the parents. First of all, as I said previously, we thought we would see them at the court date which is likely to be weeks away, so we were unprepared. We had even had concern about Nikolai--the father--from stories of his threats to anyone who tried to adopt his children and other stories about his abusive, alcoholic nature.
But what we saw were two simple, obviously poor, people waiting for a glimpse of Olya, a daughter they had not seen in five years. There was nothing threatening about them, only a profound sadness.
They looked like farmers or rather what I imagined peasants of another century to look like. Maria wore a kerchief on her head and slipper-like shoes. Nikolai wore dark jeans and a dark tee shirt with the incongruous “Dolce Gabbanna” logo on the chest. But they appeared as if they had just put down a plow before they came here.
I (Ron) felt an enormous urge to rush to them, which is what I did. I went to the father and put out my hand. I didn’t know if he would take it or not. But he stood and came to me and shook my hand. Maria also stood and came towards Olya. We pulled Olya to us and said in English, which of course they did not understand, “This is, Olya”. To Olya, Pippa said, “Olya, this is Maria and Nikolai.” An awkward moment or two, and Pippa or I (I can’t remember) told Olya to give them a hug. Olya, shyly did just that. By sheer coincidence, both Olya and Maria had on the same exact aqua color of shirt and top.
Maria and Nikolai, said very little but just kept staring at Olya. Maria never stopped smiling. I cannot imagine what they were feeling. Pippa and I had the same feeling of enormous empathy for these parents. Regardless of why they lost the children in the first place, it was obvious of the love they felt for Olya––it was in every movement they made and most of all in their eyes. Our hearts broke for them.
Olya doesn’t remember them at all. While we were still in Miami we had spent a lot of time talking with her about “Maria and Nikolai” so she would be mentally prepared for this very moment. She was. When she saw them she didn’t reject them nor she rush to them. She accepted them and didn’t do anything that would hurt them.
We held Olya close as the translator told Maria and Nikolai what we said. We told them that Olya was a beautiful child, very thoughtful to others, nice to everyone, loves animals, very smart in school, very good in sports and gymnastics. It took a lot of encouragement but we convinced Olya to do some cartwheels and handstands for them. It helped things, I think. I glanced at Andry a couple of times to see how he was taking all this in; he was smiling but hanging back to watch it all.
Nikolai finally stepped up and spoke softly and asked if Andry would get an education with us. I think he said more but that’s all our translator passed on. I suspect it was mostly to express his approval and acceptance. Acceptance was in their posture as if they had finally accepted this unimaginable loss.
We had prepared a hard bound iPhoto book for Maria of photos of Olya that chronicled all the important times of Olya’s life with us: we had the text translated in Russian and written to Maria with the statement that we wanted to share all these important events that Maria had missed of her daughter. We didn’t have the book with us and as it turns out was a good thing because we told Maria we would bring the book to her at her house the following day.
We asked Olya to give Maria and Nikolai a goodbye hug, which she did. The couple quickly turned and walked away through the trees to a car they had borrowed from someone in their village for the three hour ride. I took a photo of them with their backs turned walking through the trees which for some reason really tugs at my heart (photo below). I cannot imagine how they could go through what had just happened nor what they must feel on leaving Olya and Andry behind. (I had a very tearful night later on reflecting on this meeting.)
Our driver drove us back and we stopped at a Ukrainian restaurant on the outskirts of Kiev. Andry was in good spirits with his sister and with us. From time to time he asked me questions which were communicated in a mixture of English, Spanish and German.
We went to a supermarket to stock up on all the food staples. We had a translator as well as Andry to help us find most of what we needed. Shopping won’t be a problem in Kiev; the stores are all very modern and there is about anything you could possibly need. You just need a translator for most of the packages, but a number of things were packages imported from Germany. For example, Olya likes German pancakes so much that I must make them for her about every morning at home and I need powdered sugar for that. I found German puder zucker, so we’re in good shape. The trick will be to cook without all the pots & pans and kitchen accessories we’re used to. There is no coffeemaker in this fancy kitchen; we’ll buy one on another day. In the meantime, there is a quite acceptable Nescafe instant.
The rest of the evening went very well back in our apartment. Olya played on her computer and Andry played on Pippa’s computer. Andry is quite adept on the computer. They play play Simms 2 for hours on end. Andry announced that he (on Simms 2) was going to adopt a baby and name the baby Ron if a boy and Pippa if a girl. Pippa suggested he reverse it and name the girl Ron and the boy Pippa. Andry thought that was a good idea.
Olya and Andry stay glued to each other from waking in the morning until too late in the evening. Olya wants to do everything like Andry does: eat and drink the same; wear matching shirts; they walk everywhere side by side; and both want Ron to play “tickle time” endlessly, always the two of them against Ron.
Sometime around 11 or so we all went to bed. Andry and Olya slept on the sofas in front of the big flat panel screen TV in the living room which worked for an hour or so. (Another thing to get the landlord to fix tomorrow.)
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