Russia (bbabo.net), - Books from Krasnodar arrived at the Literary Kiosk of Staraya Russa and the Staraya Russian City Library as part of the charity event "The City of Dostoevsky - a Book as a.jpgt".

The books were donated to the Old Russians by the journalist Vera Tikhonova. In 2020, her husband, a well-known photographer, bild editor and teacher, died in her arms. After his death, Vera began to publish touching, funny, philosophical, romantic and endlessly sincere notes on social networks. In them, she told the story of meeting her husband, described their relationship, joint travel. Light and soulful texts resonated in the hearts of many people and formed the basis of the book "If it weren't for you, then I wouldn't be", published by the publishing house "There is a sense" in the new year.

This book is not just a story of living through loss, it is about gaining new meanings that help to live on day after day, and about the fact that love is stronger than death.

As Vera herself admits, at first she showed these stories only to her closest friends:

- I was afraid that people would not understand ... Who wants to be close to grief? But, surprisingly, things turned out differently. Readers admitted that it is light for them to touch our love, that it is important for them to see what a truly mature relationship in a couple can be like. As it turned out, it is important for people to know how bright the memory of a departed person can be, what gratitude grief is melted into.

When several stories posted on social media wanted to be published in a magazine, Vera came up with the headline "My husband died and then found friends":

- It's true, because most of my readers never knew us personally. Many even learned about our existence after Misha died. But, having read our history, they became related to us, became good and close friends. I hope that readers of Staraya Russa will feel the same effect, because the book will talk about love. About the fact that love does not stop, about the fact that there is no time and boundaries for love, that even death is powerless against love.

By the way

The debut book of Vera Tikhonova became an event of the International BookFair of Intellectual Literature. At the public talk within the framework of Non/fiction No. 23, dedicated to the novelty, it was noted that the book "If it weren't for you, then it wouldn't be me" raises a topic that is unique for the modern cultural space - the relationship of mature, and, moreover, real, people who day by day they learn to take care of each other, discuss the challenges of today, try to figure out how to get out of quarrels without devastating consequences.

Excerpts from the book

Wedding anniversary

November 12, 2020, shortly after Misha's death, we had a wedding anniversary. Just four years. For four whole years.

We could not get married for a long time - five months. They did not coincide in time and space, they could not plan in advance when we would be together and we could go to sign. And we wanted this somewhat unevenly.

At first, Misha insisted that we should definitely get married, that we should have a real family, but I hesitated. Then suddenly I began to worry that we urgently needed to get married so that if we had to face the state, we would not turn out to be a nobody to each other ...

As a result, we managed to apply only in September ...

On that day, we laughed from morning to evening ... Immediately after the registry office, we went to the MFC to issue a passport for me with a new surname. It was necessary to take photographs, and Misha simply pushed the boy from the photo studio aside and turned on the light himself. So now I have a wonderful photo in my passport, where I smile ... We had dinner at a cafe, drove home and went to a small shop in a neighboring house. I was standing in front of the cash register with a bunch of white roses, and Misha fell out of the refrigerator with a carton of thirty eggs.

Then he added a carton of milk to them and explained to the seller in a businesslike way: "We always return from a date with eggs" ...

I saw that Misha was bursting, but he did not say that we were newlyweds. Shortly before that, the seller offered me to deliver the watermelon to the doorstep, Misha was jealous and deliberately opened up several times in the store, they say, they have been married for twenty years, a student daughter, an incredibly happy marriage.

We then often repeated this legend. Especially when someone was surprised that we were so frankly happy and in love with each other, and specified how much we were married, obviously to say: "Well, of course, nothing, it will pass soon."

I wondered how it would be "later", only once. And she asked Misha: "Do you think we will sparkle in the same way in a year, three, twenty?" He thought for a moment and replied: "As we do, so be it."

We weren't just happy, we made each other happy. Every day.

And now, when Misha is gone, to keep this happiness, to cherish it, to prolong it - this is my choice for every day.

Joint budget

Misha insisted on the joint budget. However, he insisted - this is loudly said, I was not against it. But I did not have such a habit and had to work on myself.

The family was sacred for Misha, and the thought of sharing something - this is family, and this is mine - did not even cross his mind. It was impossible not to appreciate such an attitude and not to respond to it. Once we even said out loud that we take each other whole, in bulk, as is - with loans and old injuries, habits and established character, even with.jpgts that our exes had once not appreciated and returned ...

Putting theory into practice did not go smoothly right away. The fact is that Misha and I very quickly stopped wearing my backpack - he had a much more spacious backpack for shopping ...

But it so happened that Misha also carried a wallet with cash and cards. And I found myself in a situation where in order to buy water, coffee or a bun, I had to ask.

I felt that at once I turned into a child for whom "there is nothing of yours" and "do not buy". I understood with my head that Misha didn’t feel sorry for anything for me ... but she couldn’t open her mouth and ask.

For a while I experienced all this in myself, but then I thought that it was somehow dishonest. Yes, and unproductive. And she told Misha what exactly was difficult for me and why.

To say he was shocked is an understatement. How is it that I'm afraid of him? Do I think he will refuse me? How so?

Misha immediately suggested that I carry the wallet myself and control our expenses. He assured that there was no problem for him to ask me to buy him something or give him money, but I refused this offer. Then he repeated a hundred ... times that he was just a purse with legs, that he was not wearing his own, but our money, that he didn’t feel sorry for me at all. And he also began to anticipate my desires ... he asked: "Maybe you want to take coffee with you? How about drinking water? Aren't you hungry?" ...

I was very touched and pleased with such care. And gradually I thawed, moved away from childhood traumas and was surprised - is it really me? We're a family.

Keep joy

The next year after Misha's death, I decided not to fast. Not that I do it all the time, and this time I don't, but it was a conscious decision. I thought it was a bad idea - now, when the grief is still very fresh, to deprive yourself of anything ...

Before I met him, I had no experience of receiving love. There was no feeling of their significance, the one that unconditional care gives. A kid who was not told in childhood that he was "more expensive than a hundred thousand million" grows into a very sad adult. Who does not know how to take care of himself and, at worst, engages in self-destruction. Who does not understand when they truly love him, and when they use him, they dump on him the eaten jam, a broken chandelier and allow themselves to be adored.

Misha gave me confidence that I was important. That you don't have to sacrifice yourself. And to compromise - too, and it doesn’t matter, it’s about the degree of strength of a boiled egg, about the choice of shoes or the direction for a vacation.

I was surprised and happy to live with it. Surround yourself with things that please - and please for a long time. Work in a job that fills you and allows you to grow. And expect good things from the world...

To my surprise, I realized that I was not alone. I learned to ask for help and accept it. I believed that I was important to someone. And she became very important to herself. I am happy, I am what Misha made me. I don't want his efforts to go to waste. For me, to save myself means, among other things, to continue it, to continue Misha. I encourage myself when I want something. This is a good sign, in my case it is a sign of life, a sign of recovery.

I have not yet managed to learn how to eat normally without Misha. Everything flew - and the number of meals, and the menu, and appetite. And if I want to eat a baked turkey, I will give it to myself - it doesn’t matter if it’s fasting now or not.

The purpose of the post is not about food. It is to take a sober look at your relationship with God, at your life, values ​​and desires. And this post has lasted for me since Misha's death itself and will continue for a long time. Another point of the post is to try to comprehend the transience of life and realize yourself in the context of eternity - what am I doing now? The meaning of fasting is Easter coming at its end. This is the Resurrection of Christ. Christ conquered death, and I am looking forward to Easter troparia with all my might, because they mean that Misha is alive.

And I'm alive.

bbabo.Net