Sergeyich’s estrangement from Vitalina and Angelica

Sergeyich’s estrangement from Vitalina and Angelica is a condition of separation sustained by war and silence, but not by indifference. Postcards preserve the connection in small, tangible forms; a phone call makes the distance suddenly harder to bear. Unable to speak when Vitalina answers, Sergeyich hangs up, then tries to make himself present again through a greeting addressed to both his former wife and their daughter and entrusted to Petro for delivery.

Distance Preserved in Postcards

After returning home from his unexpected postal duties, Sergeyich finds the cards from Vitalina and Angelica. He lights two church candles beside a third already burning in a jar and reads their New Year greeting: “Happy New Year, dear Sergey! We wish you wisdom, health, and peace – may it come soon! Yours, Vitalina and Angelica.” The message gives him news of a connection that has continued in his absence, but it also arrives too late to alter the New Year’s Eve he spent alone, waiting for midnight before drinking a glass of honey vodka and going to bed.

Some time later, he rereads the three postcards from Vitalina. They contain few words, so he studies the handwriting, looking closely at how it changes from card to card. The attention he gives the letters is more than a search for information: their familiar marks become a way to dwell on the people he cannot readily reach. He recognizes tenderness in himself and attributes it both to loneliness and to the fact that, after three years of war, his ex-wife has not forgotten him and has signed the cards on their daughter’s behalf as well.

An Attempt to Speak

The postcards prompt Sergeyich to consider a more direct contact. When his attention falls on the mobile beside the alarm clock, he finds the family’s number and presses the call button almost accidentally. Vitalina answers with a clear, familiar voice and asks who is calling. Sergeyich wants to respond, but cannot get the words out. He swallows, hangs up, and lowers the phone to the table; tears come, and his body seems weighed down by the failed attempt.

The phone then rings while it is still in his hand. Sergeyich listens for several minutes, until he realizes the device has gone quiet and what remains is only the ringing’s echo in his ears. The sequence gives the estrangement its clearest form: the possibility of contact is real—Vitalina has answered—but Sergeyich cannot turn recognition into conversation. The return call does not resolve the silence; he remains listening until even its echo fades.

Making the Family Greeting

Sergeyich responds by deciding to write to Vitalina for International Women’s Day, March 8. He wants to congratulate her and make clear that he has not disappeared and is still alive. The intention is modest, but it answers the failed call directly: where speech broke down, a written message can be composed, addressed, and sent.

As he prepares the greeting, he thinks about how to address his family. He rejects a formulation that would seem to separate Vitalina and Angelica in his mind. His reasoning rests on a hope that the family, though split, still consists of two parts rather than three, and that the two parts may someday be joined again. The thought excites him. Looking again at the names at the end of the New Year card, he finds the form of address he wants and begins, “Dear Vitalina and Angelica,” before adding “My” at the start.

He writes the short congratulation in large letters on the back of a photograph, then puts his name and new postal address, 37 Shevchenko Street, on the envelope. The address carries a small uncertainty: Sergeyich grins at the possibility that Vitalina may assume he has moved only one street over. The concrete address makes his effort to reconnect practical, while the greeting’s shared address makes explicit the family unity he hopes still exists.

A Message Entrusted to Petro

When Petro visits, Sergeyich asks whether postal service is available where he is. On hearing that it is, Sergeyich pushes the envelope toward him and asks him to buy a stamp and mail it. Petro agrees, glances at the address, and slips the envelope into his jacket’s inside pocket. Sergeyich explains that it is for his wife and daughter, then asks Petro how things are over there and whether it is quiet.

The message therefore leaves Sergeyich’s hands, but the evidence does not establish whether it reaches its recipients or how they respond. Its significance lies in the attempt itself: after the unanswered words of the phone call, he makes a deliberate gesture toward both women, names them together, and entrusts the greeting to someone who can carry it beyond his isolated home. The relationship remains distant and unresolved, held open by postcards, a carefully chosen address, and the hope that a divided family may still be reunited.