An Ode to Saint Victoria of Richmond Hill

It was a year ago Wednesday that my beloved grandmother departed this earth at the age of 87. For the Ivanoff and Charczenko families, it was the loss of a mother, grandmother, sister, cousin, aunt, great aunt, great-great aunt and matriarch. For part, if not most of a Queens neighborhood, it was the lost of an eccentric Russian/Ukrainian-American woman who believed in dignity as much as the Queen of England does. 

But my grandmother was a combination of many pop culture styles. One was the Nia Vardalos style: make babies and feed everyone. A little derogatory, but it fits. She and my grandfather had two boys, and until her stroke, she did just that: fed everyone. Even her two "adopted" grandchildren had the privilege of experiencing her cooking. And after being (weirdly enough) scared/disgusted (can't think of better words) of my two half-brothers, she took them as her own grandkids. And both for their own reasons: Steven because of his adorableness and Thomas because of the animal connection: both my grandmother and Wom shared a bond over parrots. She was as forceful as a Jewish grandmother, making anybody eat everything on their plate, even if they didn't quite like it.

The last thing she told me while she was alive was that she thought of Vladimir Nabokov as a "smut peddler". Classy, Vicky. Also note the connection that her husband's name was also Vladimir. 

Babi, we miss you down here, and whatever you're up to, just don't worry. Your son and two grandsons have good heads on their shoulders.

Come to think of it, Babi looked a lot like Gloria Stuart of Titanic fame. Nonetheless, your friends and family miss your sense of humor and your heart.  

*By the way, if any family is offended by me having this picture up, I understand and I will remove it if so*