My friend Liuba

Created by Stella one year ago
 

Liuba was determined to learn English and I was the Scottish lady who tried to teach her.  I say tried, because she was already multi-lingual with Russian, Romanian and Moldovan as well as a smattering of French under her belt and this got in the way.  Every time she went off to see her Sacha or Liudmila in London she came back, having been speaking Russian or Romanian all weekend.  When she went to see friends in the Russian Club in London it was even worse and the English had gone!  Despite this, she worked so hard and had a remarkable understanding of grammar.  She was a very clever lady. 

With a background in Economics and all sorts of surprising skills – an amazing needlewoman, she could knit and crochet anything from a jumper to a stuffed cat!  In her tiny kitchen, she produced wonderful meals that transported you straight back to her old home in Eastern Europe.

She was generous to a fault – I kept telling her not to give me gifts from her travels, but now I will treasure them, particularly the smiley wooden spoon (which is also so practical) and an orange one of those stuffed crocheted cats that she gave me when I last saw her in Bembridge -  which will go on the Christmas tree every year.  It will be Liuba’s cat – not to replace Barsik - but a reminder. 

We discovered we had so much in common – her love of gardening, of languages, of travel and our childhoods – mine in the wilds of Scotland and hers in Moldova. 


Liuba was always so positive about her life here in Ryde, her friends at the Bridge Club and her travels by bus round the Island with Martin.  Her proudest moment may have been when she became a British Citizen.

I think I learned more from Liuba than she did from me!  Her joy at little things, her love of her family, her gratitude for what she had and her ability to tell stories of her life in Moldova, or working in Russia as a young woman.  Stories that evoked in such detail an era in a country that I would never experience.

It is strange not to have her shout 'Hello, Stella' across from her allotment - she was always working on it and loved the fresh air and exercise it gave her. 

I will miss her.