They won't give their mother flowers anymore. Now she carries flowers to her sons' graves

On Facebook, I came across a call to sign a petition to award the soldier the title of Hero of Ukraine. An incredibly handsome boy was in the photo. I started to find out who he was. It turned out that his name was Denys, who died in January 2023 near Kreminna. He had an older brother, Maksym, who… also died eight months later, near Robotyne.

“I don't want to talk about any petition or awards. It is not necessary, nothing is necessary. My sons cannot be returned. Who needs those awards when they are gone? They will never be here again,” tears are choking their mother, Lilia. Tears are preventing me from speaking as well. And we apologize to each other for crying on the phone instead of talking.

We will not talk about awards and petitions. We will talk about her boys.

“I never had any trouble with them”

They were born one after the other: Maksym in May 2001, and Denys in September 2002. They were as tall, gray-eyed handsome boys. Maksym was a fast, restless mischievous boy, running around the village, often prickly in his communication, strict. Denys was gentle and quiet, and it was not scary to leave him alone in the house: wherever you put him, you would find him in a few hours.

They loved it when their mother read them fairy tales, they loved construction sets and new toys for the holidays. And they never, as boys can do, cringed in response to their mother's affection. Almost the same age, they were always together, and they were each other's best friends.

When their mother was expecting their third child, the boys were already teenagers. They thought that a sister would be born, and they wanted to name her Nastia. But the third brother was born. They chose the name Dmytro. They were brothers, nannies, and friends to him.

“I never had any trouble with them, they never got into anything bad. No one in the village could say they were lazy. Maksym was a great cook. He could make French-style meat and stuffed pike. Denys was more of a techie, he could clean the house, and he was good at everything,” says Liliia.

The older sons were always respectful of her in a romantic way. In March, on her birthday, they would find snowdrops in the forest. And there were always flowers on Mother's Day. They also joked respectfully: “Liliia Vasylivna, sit down, I'm going to tell you something,” which ishow Maksym often started a conversation with her.

Maksym loved sports and played football. Denys was more eager to learn, participating in math, biology, and Ukrainian language competitions.

Their village was gradually falling into decline: the kindergarten, school, and rural health center were closed, and the village council was liquidated. Their mother, an agronomist by training, lost her job in her specialty and had to work as a hospital nurse. The boys planned to go to study far away from the village and look for non-rural professions.

“I didn't hold them back, I wanted them to find themselves,” says Liliia.

In Kyiv, Denys studied to become a train mechanic and drove river trams along the Dnipro. Maksym became a chef and worked in restaurants in Zhytomyr.

“They liked the fact that they were earning their own money and could buy gifts for their family. They bought plasma TVs, a chainsaw, a vacuum cleaner, and various tools for their father with their own money. And Dmytro was spoiled! Anything he wanted, they would buy him. Strawberries in the winter, a phone, and radio-controlled cars. I didn't ask them for money, they would buy it themselves, and bring it to him. They were happy to be able to help,” says Lilia.

The black raven cried out

The guys took the necessity to serve in the army calmly. In 2021, Denys was called up. Very soon he signed a contract with the 132nd separate reconnaissance battalion. Not that he really liked the service, but he had to serve for 3 years. He served in Zhytomyr and managed to go on a business trip to Horlivka. There were no hostilities on the demarcation line, so his mother's heart was calm. Even at the beginning of 2022, when everything was already screaming about a full-scale war, there were no worries.

On February 24, Liliia tried to call Denys, but it was not possible. On February 25, Maksym called his mother from Zhytomyr. He said that Denys was already at war somewhere near Belarus and that he was going to fight too. The next day, Maksym came home to pack his things, go to the military registration and enlistment office, and say goodbye. He and his mother walked to the nearest bus station, 15 kilometers away. There were no buses, so Maksym took a taxi to his Zhytomyr military unit. “I'll call you when I get there.” That's how the mother saw her second son off: “I realized that it was war, that anything could happen. But I did not dissuade Maksym. It was his decision.”

Maksym also got into the 132nd separate reconnaissance battalion. He asked to be in the same unit as his brother, but the military psychologist said he shouldn’t. Mom still doesn't understand why. The older one served as a scout, the younger one as a gunner. They were chasing the Russians from near Kyiv, Chernihiv and Kharkiv. Meanwhile, their father received a draft notice. However, the 50-year-old man was not accepted into the army due to his health condition.

“It was very hard to wait for news from my sons. Sometimes they were gone for weeks. They texted Dmytryk and their father. And I didn't like texting. Because how do you know who texted you? I wanted to hear their voices, even if only for a minute. And they were so stingy: ‘Everything is fine,’ ‘Everything is okay’ What was fine? They didn't tell me anything, no details. They never complained about anything. I didn't cry while talking to them, I only asked them to take care of themselves.”

In January 2023, Denys, already a fighter with the 95th Brigade, was wounded near Kreminna. His mother was unable to visit her wounded son because she was injured and had just been put in a cast. Denis lost an eye and a leg. He underwent surgery in Dnipro. They did not save him. On January 28, he died of his wounds. Maksym was with him in the hospital. The eldest son informed his mother:“Denys is gone”.

She had not seen Denys since the beginning of the full-scale invasion, for a year. After the separation, she hugged him when he was already dead. Maksym offered to bury his brother in Zhytomyr at the military cemetery, among the men of the 95th Brigade. But the mother wanted the grave to be close by because she couldn’t go to Zhytomyr very often.

Maksym did not demobilize after his brother's death “for family reasons”. That was not his nature. He was transferred to the 46th Airmobile Brigade and was assigned to the Zaporizhzhia direction.

“Even being in the war, he tried to support me. He asked his classmates and neighbors to buy me bouquets for the holidays. I like roses — red and pink. So his classmates would buy and take pictures of me with the bouquets to send a report to Maksym. Maksym was very pleased. And I was so happy that he did this, that among the battles he remembered my birthday and Mother's Day. When I held that bouquet in my hands, I felt like I was hugging my son.”

Little Dmytro's birthday is August 17. He is a young child, 9 years old, and you can't deny him a holiday, even though his older brother is dead. However, they decided to celebrate Dmytro's birthday on the 19th, on the Apple Feast of the Savior, because in summer there is so much work in the village that there is no time for cakes on weekdays. The mother did not know then that it was on August 17, 2023, that the Russians killed Maksym in a field near Robotyne. His brothers-in-arms were able to take his body on August 19. Such coincidences. Maksym's fellow soldiers did not have the heart to call his mother. They knew it would be the second funeral in the family. They sent the news through Maksym's aunt. Now, for the rest of his life, the youngest in the family, Dmytro, will have a black birthday.

The shell hit so badly that Maksym's face was gone. Liliia and her sister went to the Zaporizhzhia morgue to identify her son, even though his fellow soldiers confirmed that the body was Maksym. She recognized him by his tattoos: a wolf on his arm and a raven on his shoulder confirmed that it was her son's body. No DNA analysis was needed. Maksym was brought by the On the Shield team in a closed coffin and buried on August 25 next to his brother. Today, the two of them are the only people from the village who died in the war. According to folk tradition, Liliia buried both sons, who did not have time to marry, with wedding rings, as if they were newlyweds.

“I've never read my sons' fortunes, I don't believe in fortune-telling. And I never had any prophetic dreams. I thought they would live a long time. I told them that if something happened to me and my father, they should take care of Dmytro, and be like his parents. And this is how it turned out.”

She is grateful to her sons’ brothers-in-arms for not leaving her sons on the battlefield, for being able to bury her boys properly, at home, and for being able to visit their graves. When it gets warmer, a monument will be erected on the grave. It will have photos of Denys and Maksym in military uniforms. These are the ones that Lilia gave us for our story. She didn't want to give them, because why would people care about her losses? She also didn't want us to mention their last name and village.

In March, Lilia will turn 43. For the first time, she will not receive flowers from her older sons on her birthday.

There are no psychologists in the distant village. There is Maksym and Denys's room, which hasn't been changed since its owners left for the army. There is her husband with whom she cries so as not to disturb Dmytro. There is Dmytro, who keeps asking his mother what is happening to his brothers in the ground. The little one needs to be put on his feet. They have a big farm to run. There is no time for heavy thoughts. Right now, in our conversation, Lilia is letting her sadness take over.

“There is an emptiness in my heart. I will never see them again. I will never hear their voices again. No one can replace them, no one,” she whispers not so much to me as to herself.