{Action Post} Mamochka
It was the one day out of the year that Ivan could finally come to terms with the fact that he was partially without a mother. He had several photographs on his nightstand - Aunt Catherine coddling her two nieces and nephew outside in her garden, Katerina with her arms wrapped around her infantile siblings, a family portrait of his late cousins - and Ivan often found himself staring at them every morning from beyond the muted green glare of his pillowcase. Sometimes he'd pull open the drawer and reach inside past the medications and watches where a faded photograph of his parents was, a bundle of blankets in her arms and a little white hand reaching up to grasp at her light blonde hair. Ivan had taken the photograph from his sister before moving to America, and never had the heart to return it lest she be disappointed in him for taking it - considering the fact that the baby in his mother's arms was Katyuska.
Ivan rose from bed and tucked the photo back in his drawer. Instead of getting dressed in his usual Italian shoes, gray slacks, olive vest and white-collared shirt, he pulled on his only pair of jeans, slippers, and LU T-shirt. It felt nice to have the soil between his toes again, even if the days before had been nothing but rain and forty-degree weather.
Once Katya had awakened and drifted outside, Ivan had already finished planting the second row of seeds in their garden. "Otchen vosmoe marta," he greeted, peering up at her from underneath his hat. It was the perfect holiday, it seemed - international woman's day in Eastern Europe and Mother's day in America, and as almost depressing as it was, Katya was the closest thing to a mother he'd ever had, and in a few weeks time he would actually have some sunflowers to give to his older sister. For now all he could do was offer her the seeds and his beaming smile.
Ivan rose from bed and tucked the photo back in his drawer. Instead of getting dressed in his usual Italian shoes, gray slacks, olive vest and white-collared shirt, he pulled on his only pair of jeans, slippers, and LU T-shirt. It felt nice to have the soil between his toes again, even if the days before had been nothing but rain and forty-degree weather.
Once Katya had awakened and drifted outside, Ivan had already finished planting the second row of seeds in their garden. "Otchen vosmoe marta," he greeted, peering up at her from underneath his hat. It was the perfect holiday, it seemed - international woman's day in Eastern Europe and Mother's day in America, and as almost depressing as it was, Katya was the closest thing to a mother he'd ever had, and in a few weeks time he would actually have some sunflowers to give to his older sister. For now all he could do was offer her the seeds and his beaming smile.