Chapter 2
The Meeting

January 23, 2015.

Friday.

I suddenly remembered how we met…

Of course, it was not all of a sudden.

After all, tomorrow is your birthday! And we owe this acquaintance to my precious sister, who was returning from another country and decided to pass the time between flights with me.

It was our second meeting with Taska after my mom and I moved to St. Petersburg.

I was in a hurry to the airport, and I had to miss two classes. But when I arrived, it turned out that Taska's flight arrived with a two-hour delay. I just wanted a cup of coffee…

You stood there, waiting for your espresso. I haven't seen your face yet, but for some reason (what a nonsense!) I wanted to snuggle up to your back, hug you and die from the tenderness that suddenly surged over and was completely inexplicable.

Although you can explain everything. It's just instinct worked faster than reason.

It was only later that I put everything in order and decided that at that moment my subconscious mind capitulated to the fact that if there was really something left of animals in us, it was the ability to choose partners by smell.

I came close indecently, and when you turned to me, I realized that I was lost forever. Perhaps you also understood everything and just played along with me…

But all this looked quite plausible: you looked into my eyes, and the cup of coffee, balancing on the saucer, could not resist to fall to my feet. I involuntarily bit my lower lip, so as not to scream.

«Does it hurt?» You asked.

«Not much. But I'm sorry about the shoes!» I answered.

«You won't believe it, but this is the first time with me! I'm so clumsy!» You exclaimed, looking at my red suede pumps. Dark brown splashes have now been absorbed, and turned into ugly stains with small grains of black coffee.

«As far as I understand, there's no use in cleaning them…»

«Probably,» I sighed.

«My name is Igor!»

«Eva,» I answered.

«Eva? Really? Cool! I owe you shoes, at least… And coffee, if you don't mind?»

«I don't. Anyway, I'm here to meet my sister and I have a lot of time…»

How many years have passed since then?… It seems that all this happened yesterday!

And if it weren't for our boys, I could swear it was yesterday!

Tomorrow you will be thirty, Styopa and Daniel are seven! Who could know you were born on the same day! There are three men in the house and all are birthday people!

Mom always sympathizes with me, thinking that on this day I fulfill all your whims…

Of course, I will give you your, no, my favorite perfume, Baldessarini… The very one that I felt in the coffee house when I met you…

Taska is smart.

She has a whole classification of meetings:

1. Fateful meetings…

2. Meetings that do not oblige to anything and leave a kind of bright sadness…

3. Meetings that you remember all your life, but nothing can be changed for a number of reasons…

Meeting number 1.

 
Your each and every touch
Is like an electric discharge.
Your look, relentless and sweet
And a moment that's infinite…
You stopped at the door for a while
And burned my cheek with your tip
Thousand candles of love fire
And the flame of hottest lips…
The lighting pierces my soul
So I can't utter a sound…
My trusting gaze turns to yours:
It's eye to eye, and we're bound.
It's not an electric discharge,
But the gravity of the earth…
Your gentle eyes plead me at large
Surrender without remorse.
And the earth seems to swing…
I sometimes forget to breathe
I love you! I love you more than anything…
I walk on the edge with ease…
 

Meeting number 2.

 
The colors mixed into a filth:
Gray heavy clouds above the earth…
 
 
Beautiful words turn into mist,
We met against all odds…
You're too polite, and very sweet
But my heart remains calm and still…
I had the strength to cool the heat
To stay impregnable and chill…
My goodness! What a rapid change…
The sun has barely touched your glance!
Now I must seem so cruel and strange…
I pray to give me one last chance…
Alas! You'll never look at me…
Though I was just a moment late!
So sorry… Now you cannot see
One touch of love that still awaits…
 
 
Mixed colors make everything gray:
Dull heavy clouds above the ground…
But I'll be happy anyway
I'll be around, I'll be around…
 

Meeting number 3.

 
Big square of an ancient city
Azure silky sky;
You couldn't find a decent reason,
So you freely came by…
 
 
Although you spoke in English,
I understood you without a word,
You seemed to be very near
Coming from recent thoughts…
 
 
Big square of an ancient city,
I'm surrounded by pals
Why do I need a good reason
To send Colosseum to hell?
 
 
I quietly apologized
Came up with stupid excuses
And rushed without ending the talk,
So clumsy and so confusing…
 
 
Columns, arches, ancient city;
Fountain, steps… I see you sit…
I could find another reason
Paris could wait a little bit…
 
 
Then you smiled as we were walking
Putting sunglasses aside
Touched your hair as we were talking
And lights sparkled in your eyes…
 
 
The circle of columns and buildings…
Changed tomorrow to yesterday;
You smiled goodbye to my feelings
And, just like a dream, flew away…
 

Lord, I just don't understand how can she build and systematize such a gamut of human feelings!!!

Taska, I remember my promise.

Chapter 3
A Miracle…

If you think adventure is dangerous, try routine. It's lethal.

(Paulo Coelho)

January 23, 2016.

Monday.

You know, I always envied you. Not just because of the way you feel about life and know how to color gray dull everyday life.

No. I envied your dreams…

How do you do it?

Today… You just came up and told your dream, without resorting to various tricks and metaphors, in casual words.

You only mentioned that the dream was colorful as always.

And then I saw what you dreamed…

My imagination added brightness to its colors and space to its volume.

I even felt the wind play with my hair.

And also the smell. The smell of ripe wheat…

Yes.

But in a dream, all this is absolutely obvious things. Objects that have become significant for some reason become the same height as secondary ones, those that are much higher… Those that are now in front of the eyes or lens. A twenty-story tall wheat.

I see it in every detail, as if looking at it through a magnifying glass.

I remember once Taska and I went to a plein air… Having set a sketchbook somewhere on the high river bank, she began to paint…

Sky. River bend. Steep coast…

And then for some reason she wanted to draw some buttercup in the foreground.

The yellow buttercup seemed to have the same height as the dark tree on a high slope.

The law of perspective.

Unlike wood, the buttercup was more alive…

After all, she wanted to write out every vein on his petals…

And now you told me your dream.

I don't know, maybe you already forgot about it. Maybe you saw it a little different. But my imagination, like a hungry puppy, continues to return to that situation in search of a place where the «bone» was once buried… In this case, the imagination does not let go of the picture that has appeared and is now overgrown with details.

Sounds. Different sounds.

And then there are poems. Either they are born in my head, or this is how air fills the space…

They seem so perfect that remembering and reproducing them is almost impossible. They have a completely different philosophy and categories that seem to be understandable… But they are so unusually simple, concise and pure…

All Horoscopes claim that Aquarius is romantic.

This is true.

You are Aquarius!

You're also a romantic.

I've never met a bigger romantic. You always surprised me. And, as a rule, in moments when I was not ready to be surprised.

What does it mean: not ready?

It's just that the texture of those moments was too flat and not yet containing shoots for a future miracle…

How do you manage to mask something in this reality so that it doesn't give a sign of a holiday?

I cannot explain this parallel world where you, like a magician, take a magical object out of your sleeve, allowing the «northern lights of the holiday» to enter our house, filling it with a sense of happiness and magic… And at first this feeling makes you sit deeper or lean against the wall.

I am always unarmed.

How do you do it?

Miracle

 
What I can still believe and trust in…
 
 
With all regards and skepticism,
Provided that you cannot check it
Or find a proper mechanism
For things called Miracles or Magic,
The one you touch… but do not ask…
And it is not about the public
 
 
It's something you're afraid to bust!
 

Miracles Happen, You Know…

 
Miracles happen, you know
just when you don't expect it
right when you cross off the list
all the efforts the stars invested…
Miracles happen, you know
if you put soil to hearten
fertilize it with ashes and tears,
and not just believe it will happen…
The cynicism of nature is clear:
after all, it could connect
something that is immense
with something that remained intact…
 

I am a bad sister.

Another year has passed. And I'm still there!.. (((

Chapter 4
The Quintessence of Love…

March 23, 2017.

Thursday.

Yesterday, while I was lying in the bath full of sea salt and foam (though, alas, without rose petals or a foggy high glass of red dry wine), I thought:

«This activity is to my liking, as well as lying on a sunny Turkish or Thai beach…»

Well, I'm not a lazy one!

Although I can lie in the bath for 2 or 3 hours!

I'm going down into the water, very carefully: first one leg, then another. I try to sit down and then I go to bed slowly, because the water very hot, but not so as to leave burns…

You quickly get used to the hot bath, and after a couple of hours it only cools to body temperature. Igor scolds and spoils me at the same time:

«Eva, my fish, you know how harmful it is! Stop cooking yourself! Jump out, I've prepared something delicious here!»

«Darling, you know this is my office!» I answered once again.

Exactly, my office! During these two hours I manage to systematize my problems… Think about the things that concern me, and set up plans for the whole week!

Yesterday I thought about why I became a doctor…

Since I was a child my Mom inspired me that the doctor is the first man after God, while a priest or a pope is the second. Of course doctor sounds better, but physician is fine too…

The way people look at you walking in a whitish starched robe! As if you possess secret knowledge that is beyond the reach of mere mortals…

Indeed, it is!!!))

Some of them have awe and fear in their eyes, someone can barely cope with their excitement and constantly blush, others look at you with poorly disguised distrust.

I like to read these emotions in the eyes of my patients and find a key for each of them in order to let love into my heart…

At least to myself.

After all, all illnesses are caused by dislike, dislike of ourselves in particular… You can starve and be an absolute ascetic and at the same time have enviable health, or, conversely, suffer from chronic diseases with an abundance of funds and a set life, and think that this is okay…

But comprehensive love is also akin to disease…

Surpri singly.

What a paradox!

Taska has one interesting poem, a kind of test.

Few pass this test. The whole damn catch (!) is that 99.9 percent of those reading this poem take it literally!

But those who understand what kind of feelings the author is trying to tell find the quintessence of love…

 
Afraid to land when I take off…
Or feel no hands when I'm awake;
Afraid to ever be afraid
Thinking about you all the way…
Afraid to choose and to decide
And disagree against all odds
Afraid to lose the winter time
Afraid of river streams so broad…
Afraid to fear when I'm afraid
Afraid of friends that go back on…
Afraid to frighten, all in vain,
The brightest thoughts that rush upon…
Afraid of good luck to depend
To know the answer right away…
And that the cold gazpacho soup
Is not something you want today…
Afraid to go when looking back,
And see that you're not there even!
To say that everything's on track
But this is not what I believe in!
Afraid to trust to chance or passions
Or be dependent on desire;
Afraid to torture you with questions:
«To whom, by whom, what for and why?»
Afraid to even seem indifferent
Or when the others seem detached…
And shyly wait at the reception,
Although no chances seem to match…
Afraid of an invented fear
Though one day it will fade away…
Afraid that my last shirt I give you
Would never fit you anyway…
Afraid to lose and not recall
The memory of your sweetest arms
And that I give this huge whole world
To the possession of your charms!
Afraid that I might leave unnamed
Or be unable to find out
The names of all the feelings tamed
To know what they are all about…
I'm not afraid of reassurance
But I'm afraid I cannot take
The things I leave without regretting
And leave it for my enemy's sake…
Afraid to miss the very meaning,
Afraid of taking the wrong turn;
That there will be no more pages
Behind the page that has been torn…
Afraid to suffer and dissemble
Afraid to be afraid of heights;
Afraid to part with dreams and tremble
That I will never see them bright…
Afraid to insult by not listening,
Afraid to be afraid to die…
Of the desire close to hatred!
Of seeing when I close my eyes…
Afraid to leave without returning
Afraid to stumble and to blame…
Afraid to fall asleep forever…
Afraid to be completely tame!..
 

I finally agreed with the publisher!!!

I think that the collection will be ready for our 33rd anniversary!

Taska will be surprised!)))

Chapter 5
Numerology… Or Number Twenty Three

April 23, 2018.

Monday.

At first I had a dream…

In this dream, the smell of coffee drove me mad!

The smell of coffee and flowers…

I opened my eyes. My God!

On the floor, in a vase, I saw the most delicate cream roses.

Nearby there was a huge polar bear and Igor, pleased:

«Coffee is in the kitchen, my girl. Happy Birthday, goldfish!!!» He kissed me on the forehead as if I was a little girl and stroked my right cheek. It was so nice. I even closed my eyes and answered:

«You're adorable! Really…»

I involuntarily reached out, and he grabbed me, picked me up and carried to the kitchen in his arms…

Stepan and Daniel with their painted cards were waiting for me there! They wrapped their arms around my legs and pressed themselves against me.

Lord, how touching it is!

Today I took a day off.

We decided to postpone the birthday, or rather its celebration, for Saturday.

After all, it's such a date!

33…)))

Hooray!

Or not hooray!..

We will definitely not arrange it at home. Igor and I will go to a restaurant. No! We'll take the boys with us.

We'll dress up like it's a red carpet!

I want this day to be remembered…

Today, at about eleven, my father called.

He was worried as he spoke. He said he was very sorry that he could not be near. It seemed to me that he was already ready to burst into tears when Taska grabbed the phone and said that dad asked her to come… He didn't feel well lately…

I took a promise from her to tell me about everything she would notice. Maybe I would need to fly to my father myself. Although he promised me that if he was okay, he would definitely come to see his grandchildren and simply get away.

My father did not take vacations for many years, and now he said he was very tired.

Then I even burst into tears.

Daddy, what kind of fools you and mom were!

Igor took the boys to school and went to work, saying he would be late, since he had classes with third-year students and an autopsy…

Again I stumbled upon Taska's book. She gave it to me when she went by to St. Petersburg for a couple of days on her way to Amsterdam and Hanover.

The book was written by some great Australian numerologist.

Yeah!

David Phillips…

For three hours I was dealing with our numbers and arrows.

That's interesting!

I tried to calculate my control number:

04/23/1985 = 4 + 2 + 3 + 1+9 + 8 + 5 = 32!

It turned out to be the opposite of 23^[7]…

Then: 3 + 2 = 5.

The control number is 5.

And if you add the numbers of our year of birth:

1 + 9 + 8 + 5 = 23!!!

(Again!)

Then I wrote out a description of people whose control number was 5:

«Most of these people have a hard time working on a fixed schedule. If they are still forced to do this, they always see this as the fault of their boss and, as a result, suffer from illnesses caused by stress. They should find work that would allow… becoming a freelance writer or artist…»

And this one is exactly about Taska:

«…Many of them have a strong craving for adventure and willingly go on trips…

Impressions from travels and past experiences, acquired with wisdom and awareness, may turn out to be the most valuable ways to achieve freedom and enlightenment…»

«…The main driving force in everything they do is love for people…»

How is that?

I don't know how, but this author knows exactly what he is writing about!

I tried to draw personality arrows…

Looks like a tic-tac-toe!)))

Phew!

Everything's all right here!

We've got at least two arrows:

ARROWS OF EMOTIONAL EQUILIBRIUM: 2-5-8

«… The balanced sensitivity of people with this Arrow helps them understand the needs and attitudes of others. This ability can be perfectly used in work related to counseling and treatment…»

ARROWS OF DECISION: 9-5-1

«…Decisiveness underlies all the actions of these people…

One of the most difficult lessons for such people is the acceptance of the fact that not all of the plans will be implemented…»

Taska seems to have something about numbers:

 
In your most surreal dreams
I rely on common ground…
I will hold it up while I'm here
In the morning I'll write it down…
As I build my ephemeral bridge,
I approach the appointed day…
My emotions are put into canvas,
Taking pain and migraine away…
 
 
You believe me… Although in fact
This is witchcraft, or sorcery…
You don't think about number six
crossing all of its mysteries…
I don't like number twenty three
I would rather prefer twenty nine…
 
 
So that, dropping the pearl flare free
shadows stop saying goodbye…
 

One Thousand Thousand in This City…

 
One thousand thousand in this city
is struggling desperately through
if you don't care about the crisis, —
honey is still that sweet to you…
I recognized you once I saw you
for twenty years the ghostly trace
of railway stations made for noone
has been outstretched in twisted race…
Dark circles under the lashes phrases and words in a fuss…
It just could not happen with us it could happen without us…