A French Funeral Followed by a Ukrainian Feast

A nice photo of Valery, with borscht, vodka and pyrizhky for the deceased.

A couple of weeks ago I got a WhatsApp message first thing in the morning. It was from Christiane, in shock, telling the group of us who assist our local refugee community that Valery had died the night before. A few days earlier he had been hospitalised after heart problems manifested themselves, but he had been released, with a date for surgery. Sadly, he had a heart attack and died before the surgery could be performed. He and his wife Lyubov were amongst our first Ukrainian refugees, arriving almost exactly 12 months earlier. He was well liked and recognised in the village, always with a big smile and a friendly greeting, even if he didn't share a language with you.

Outside the crematorium in Chatellerault.

Valery was born on 24 February 1959 in the city of Mykolaiv. He married Lyuba, from Kherson, in 1980 and they had two sons, Volodymyr and Maxim. Lyuba told me that they met because she worked with his mother. It was love at first sight. He died the day before their forty-third wedding anniversary. One of their sons is on the front line, defending Ukraine. The other lives in Romania and was able to make it to the funeral. When Valery first arrived in Preuilly he had his grandson with him, but the boy never adjusted and missed his parents so much that he was finally taken back to his mother in Ukraine after just a few months in exile.

Makari delivered the eulogy in Ukrainian, and Nina translated into French.

Valery had constructed three family homes and created two food businesses in Ukraine. Latterly he and Lyuba ran a café, but before that he had a meat smoking business. Once established in Preuilly he was one of the first of 'our' refugees to get a job, at a Ferme Auberge where they raise poultry, process them and sell their product direct to the public from the farm shop and farm restaurant.

Ukrainians preparing the post funeral feast. Four of the people in this photo are called Natalyia.

He was one of those people who was always full of ideas, and would always respond to requests for help. When the war broke out he organised to evacuate women and children, driving them 3000 kilometres in his car. Four of 'our' Ukrainian families have him to thank for getting them to safety. He was always very positive, fun loving, cheerful and smiling, never complaining, and was an absolute rock for our refugee community.

Ukrainian borscht and pyrizhky.

Cremation is the norm in France, although I gather it is not in Ukraine. Sadly, it just wasn't an option to transport his body back to Ukraine and bury him there, and without a family burial plot in France, cremation was the only practical option. So everything was organised with the local funeral directors and the crematorium in Chatellerault. Christiane and Nina were marvellous, sorting out a set of clothing for Valery to be buried in and accompanying Lyuba at every stage. She went to stay with one of the other Ukrainian families until their son Maxim arrived. I went over to sit with her and found her taking phone call after phone call from Ukraine. The older Ukrainian women were there keeping her company, and Natasha, her distant cousin, whose apartment we were in, was in pieces.

Ukrainian pyrizhky, kotleti and mashed potato.

Lyuba wanted to have a traditional Ukrainian meal after the funeral service, so the village hall was booked, crockery borrowed from the Comité des fetes, and our Ukrainian community cooked up a storm to feed about 50 people with borscht, pyrizhky (buns stuffed with cabbage and onions), salads and crudités, smoked herring, mashed potato, kotleti (pork rissoles) and kutia (a sort of rice pudding). Valery was toasted in horilka (vodka) and there was homemade uzvar (dried plum cordial). I sat with Anna from Dnipro, Valery's boss from the poultry farm, various French volunteers and the Ukrainian adults French teacher, Carlos.

Smoked herring and vodka, a traditional pairing apparently.

Lyuba decided to leave with her son Maxim after the funeral rather than stay on her own in Preuilly. She has permission to take Valery's ashes with her.

Kutia.

The funeral feast.

The mayor popped in to offer his condolences to Lyuba on the left, her son and his wife, with Christiane making the introduction.