I don’t think in a million years I could ever just give one memory of Liana. In our 40s, we lived together and we helped raise dear Ilina in Illinois when  Liana was in graduate school. We knew each other in such a critical time. We formed each other in many ways. I know I helped her understand America, her new home, and she brought Russia to me. Her Russian friends, music, and sensibility, the food of her Armenian roots. I was always surprised by the things from American culture that I turned her on to that she liked, for example, Tom Waits and John Waters. And I believed I helped her understand her very-American daughter. (Though she was the epitome of a loving mother! I’d never seen anything like their bond!) On a serious note, I helped Liana during a very difficult time in Illinois. And she returned the favor to me in Atlanta. She helped me move there after I fell in love with it from visiting her there one Spring. We remained close friends.All told, nearly a decade of our lives, we were central to each others lives-as partners, then soul sisters, then friends.  Twenty years ago I moved to Pennsylvania to be with my mother. I think, even though I had moved away, and even though I was not able to be with her at the end, Liana  knew how much I loved her. The very day of her death, — and I didn’t know how bad it was—she kept me at arms length during her illness—I was in my office playing some of the Russian folk songs she had taught me.  I didn’t know until that night. Thank you, Ilina, for the gentle way you told me. 

 I know I was an “ex” but I’m sure no one will be bothered to my laying a small claim on her big heart. I have never met anyone quite like her. She was funny and passionate. And so very very bright. 

The other day I was taking a walk in the park , and I heard behind me two women speaking in Russian. I turned around and asked if they would let me walk with them. Long story short,  one of them is now becoming a friend. We walk together twice a week we talk about politics and psychology;, and , typical Russian, she is open to hearing me talk about my grief. That was one thing that I learned from Liana. Russians are not repressed like Americans. You can be real with them. Another friend of mine told me that she believes Liana gifted me with a new Russian friend in Natasha. Neither Liana nor I was prone to “magical thinking,” but maybe… 

I know how lovable she was. I know many hearts are hurting like mine. May we all never forget. 

Илина, дорогая!

Трудно что-то писать, но тем не менее:

С нашей первой встречи в давнем девяносто первом году в Orchard Downs до последней - в Роттердаме, до последнего телефонного звонка, Лиана оставалась очень близким и дорогим нам человеком. Эта близость почувствовалась очень быстро, потому что твоя мать излучала всегда открытость, доброту, участие, понимание. Она появлялась с улыбкой на лице и нам было радостно быть рядом с ней. Мы так гордились тем, что начав научную карьеру в России, она прошла все заново там, в Иллинойсе: все сделала сама, прошла через столько препон и разочарований; всегда была неутомима и полна интереса к своему делу. И вместе с этим, она была самой любящей и заботливой матерью.

Мы ее очень любили.

Наташа и Борис