'Thinking of his sacrifice': how a veteran's widow with five children is rebuilding her family's life

"The death of my husband did not break me, it added to my responsibility. First of all, in relation to my children," says Liudmyla, the wife of public figure and educator Oleh Yurchenko.

He was killed near Bakhmut in January 2023. Since then, Liudmyla, like thousands of other widowed women, has been learning to live in a new reality.

"I had to answer myself: what is there to live for? How would Oleh have wanted our life with our children to be? Thinking about his sacrifice, I had to make an effort to come back to myself from the darkness of grief," she says.

 "His death makes sense"

We are sitting with Liudmyla on the terrace of the Yurchenko's house in the village of Shchaslyve near Kyiv. This terrace was designed and built by Oleh. It was convenient for playing with the children and watching home theater performances.

The day before, a memorial plaque was installed in Trostynka, Obukhiv district, in Oleh's hometown, where he is buried. It was as if Lyudmyla had experienced her husband's funeral for the second time.

"In such moments, people often cry not out of pity for the deceased, but out of pity for themselves, mourning their cherished dreams that will never come true because of his death. "This is not for me," she says. "We will live by the same values as we did with Oleh, but without him.”

They were born in the same village and in the same year. They are both hot-tempered, stubborn, impatient, with an equally keen sense of justice. They both found themselves among inspired and motivated people for a common cause.

"Since childhood, he has been the brightest person for me. I never felt I spent enough time with him, and now I miss his hugs so much,” says Liudmyla.

Her eyes brighten and dark circles disappear as she recalls her childhood shy love for Oleh, and then her mature love filled with children and common activities.

Liudmyla, who was an activist of the Ukrainian Youth Association (CYM), brought her beloved one there as well. Later he became one of the organization's leaders and became involved in the military-patriotic education of Ukrainian children, including the all-Ukrainian game "Dzhura".

"We grew up together, we had common interests in all spheres of life, we lived heart to heart. Once I asked him what was the most valuable thing in the world for him. I thought he would say: life, family. But he said freedom, because the life of a slave has no value. And I agreed with him," says Liudmyla.

During the Revolution of Dignity, Oleh was a deputy commander of a sotnia (company). When the Maidan won and he healed the wound inflicted by Berkut riot police, he went to Donbas, where the Russians were already advancing.

As a father of many children, he had to provide the military enlistment office with permission from his wife to participate in hostilities. His wife refused to sign the document.

"What was I supposed to do alone in an unfinished house with five children? It was a blow to him, he was deeply offended by me," says Liudmyla. "But when the full-scale invasion began, Oleh said: ‘You are responsible for the children, and I am defending Ukraine’. In this context, his struggle and death make sense. And my personal misfortune, the misfortune of my children because they lost their father, is easier to perceive on the scale of the grief of the whole of Ukraine. For me, the main thing now is that his death was not in vain, that we win."

"I'm used to being strong"

Liudmyla was 4 years old when her mother died. Since then, she has felt armor growing on her skin.

"I had to be strong to survive and defend myself. I got used to it," says the woman who told herself as a teenager that no one would ever see her cry.

Liudmyla wanted to be in the thick of life. As soon as her children found their feet, she looked for a job. She worked as a journalist, compiled and published children's books, taught at school and university, was an official at the Ministry of Education, and blogged about eco-friendly housing. In addition, she was involved in public affairs at CYM, organizing children's camps, and playing the game "Dzhura." And the house, which was put in order over the years, and the garden with flower beds, and the greenhouse, where she even tended to figs and papaya. And the children.

They planned to have three, but ended up with five. Kindergarten was hard for them, they hardly ever attended. She didn't trust her children to a nanny as she wanted to influence their formation and development herself. Vocals, guitar, theater and radio clubs, specialized schools — everything for them. Drop off, pick up, help. To feed them, to listen to them, to reconcile them. She also writes poetry, fascinating stories, nativity scene scripts, and plays for home performances.

Several times, her soul was sharply cut by the feeling of lost opportunities. Why she and her red university diploma did not build a career, like her classmates who filled the TV screens? But when she recalled that she would have to leave her children behind, all her thoughts of a career vanished.

"Oleh was always ready to help me with anything. He didn't like it when I did some hard men's work at home in his absence. He always said: ‘What do you need me for?’ But he knew that I was strong, that I could handle a lot. He knew that he could leave his children with me with no worries," says Liudmyla.

After the Maidan, her husband worked for the Security Service of Ukraine, almost around the clock. Then for three years he headed the Novoaydar civil-military administration in Luhansk Oblast, coming home once every 5-6 weeks.

Even then, Lyudmyla learned to cope with life without Oleh, although it ended in a long treatment for clinical depression. But it was this experience of pulling herself out of the emotional abyss that came in handy after Oleh's death.

"Faith over fear"

Liudmyla doesn't remember much about the first two months after Oleh's funeral. It's a blur. She had to deal with the documents of her husband and children, and this made her work harder.

"The main thing during this period is not to withdraw into yourself," says Liudmyla. "We were raised in a stupid way: they say that you shouldn't burden anyone with your problems. This is wrong. When you feel bad, you have to go to people. I'm very grateful to my friends and Oleh's comrades-in-arms. The guys found me and told me about Oleh. His death was a loss not only for me, but also for them as their unit was disbanded because of the commander's death. I felt that I was not alone in my grief."

Long before February 2022, she and Oleh sent their eldest son to study in Poland: they realized that the war was inevitable, and the lad had to get an education. After the full-scale invasion, Liudmyla took the younger children abroad as well as she did not want them to live without power and heating, petrified by strikes and the sound of sirens. Only Olesia, the eldest daughter, who had just graduated from the University of Culture, remained in Shchaslyve. She was the one who received the news of her father's death.

"I am convinced that the most important thing for a woman in my situation is to accept the fact that you need professional help. Professional help so that you don't slip into depression.

At first, I listened to podcasts with psychologists. The recordings provoked me to an internal polemic with them, and I woke up from my mental numbness. 

Then I started online communication with a psychotherapist. I talked to her about all my fears and anxieties, all my confusion. Thanks to this, I stabilized my own state and was able to accept the new reality. I am very grateful to her," says Lyudmila.

For her, the new reality is now the ability to cope with everything on her own. Liudmyla was worried that she would feel difficult in the company of other widows, afraid that they would multiply her sadness. But in Poland, she was offered a chance to visit a camp for wives of fallen soldiers.

"It was a very rewarding experience," recalls Liudmyla, "I saw how others deal with grief. I was delighted that the women there literally voiced my opinion: now our husbands are in a better place, and it's no longer hard for them, they are now protecting us. The pastor there gave me a medallion with the inscription: ‘Faith over fear’. Now, in difficult moments, I constantly touch it. It makes me feel better."

"My husband would have loved this idea"

Now Liudmyla is preparing the house for the family's final return from Poland: when Oleh went to war, everything in the house fell apart for some reason. She needs to repair the heating and plumbing, clear the yard, plant new plants in the withered garden, and fix the greenhouse and pool.

Her top priority now is the safety of her children, their education, and their vocational training. If Svyatoslav, now 19, wants to go to the front, she will not hold him back. Taras will be of age in a year. Only Ustym and Khrystyna are still enjoying with their childhood.

Liudmyla knows what her life will be like after she returns home. She will once again do what Oleh and Liudmyla have loved — extracurricular patriotic education and the concerns of the village community.

The main thing in her life will be a rehabilitation center for combatants, which she plans to build with the funds of the state aid for the loss of Oleh. The center will be located in Trostynka, near Oleh's home. Liudmyla is sure that her husband would have liked this idea.