Threads of Resilience

At 83, Lidiia Komleva knew the language of loss. A medical nurse from Myrnograd, she had weathered personal tragedies long before the war arrived. Her daughter gone in 2013, her husband no longer by her side, she found solace in the small routines of life — keeping chickens, maintaining her home, helping neighbors.

The Maidan in 2014 was more than a political moment for her. It was a turning point. She fully embraced the Ukrainian language, a quiet act of defiance and hope. When war came, she was ready to move.

Her life became a series of displacements. From her home in Myrnograd to a shared house in Pokrovsk, then to a crowded living space with five other women. She learned to navigate these changes by keeping to herself, spending hours in the yard to avoid conflict with her housemates.

Her passion for embroidery became her anchor. Each stitch a memory, each thread a connection to the life she once knew.

Senior Chudo Village wasn’t just a new address. It was a restoration. Separate housing, a beautiful territory, an atmosphere of peace. Her niece had helped her navigate the application, another thread connecting her to hope.

Her dreams remained simple yet poignant. To travel, to see the Ukraine she and her daughter had once planned to explore together. Chernihiv, Volyn, the Shatsk Lakes — destinations that now represented possibility.

To the younger generation, she offered wisdom earned through a lifetime of challenges: “Don’t climb over others. Never try to deceive. Find joy, even when life is hard. Love yourself, but know that true love makes you fearless.”

To Dell Loy Hansen, she would speak of more than gratitude. She wanted more support for the armed forces, understanding that freedom comes at a price.

In apartment 7Г.3Б, Lidiia found more than a home. She found a place to continue her story, to embroider new memories, to remain ready to help her community.

Her life was a testament to resilience — quiet, unbreakable, hopeful.