liepa. a monograph.
The story of liepa starts in the 1940s…
My great grandfather, Matas, seeded the love for our motherland - and freedom - deeply in the hearts of his three sons. From a young age, they were seen as “lights of the village”. Patriots. Activists. Committed to giving their lives to preserve their home, Lithuania, a country stuck in a cycle of oppression…
As Soviet occupation and World War II approached, my grandad and his brothers refused to comply with their invader’s regime. They created cultural groups and joined partisan movements. They formed part of the resistance.
The patriotic work of the brothers did not go unnoticed by the regime. One by one, my grandad Antanas and his brothers, Izidorius and Alfonsas were declared “state enemies” - they faced consequences, and were sentenced to exile in Siberia.
Alfonsas spent 14 years as a political prisoner in Vorkuta (Siberia), doing hard labor in coal shafts.
Antanas went missing, before miraculously escaping to find his way home.
Izidorius talked his way out, emphasizing family circumstances including his wife Emilija, their newborn baby and unborn second child. He claimed he would not rebel against Soviet leadership. However, it did not take long until he was back in the woods with fellow partisans, devoting his life to fight for Lithuania’s freedom.
On the 2nd of July, 1945, my family faced its darkest chapter.
Neighbours, who were unknowingly sympathetic to the Soviet regime, convinced Izidorius that he should visit his young family. Shortly after, our homestead was surrounded by Soviet officers [stribai]. Izidorius tried to flee out of a window, but their bullet was faster… going through the prayer-book in his chest pocket and striking directly into his heart.
“And the angel was powerless against the monstrous cruelty of the nation's enemies. His still warm body was thrown into a hay cart , a slaughtered veil was thrown on top, and the old father was ordered to take two cows and follow… 10 kilometers great-grandfather Matas walked, tripping and kissing the ground on which his sons blood was dripping drop by drop…”
As they left, the occupier set the family home on fire. The young linden tree, liepa, planted by Izidorius himself, turned to ashes with it…
Over time, it resurrected, and a strong tree with four trunks grew out of the remains.
Liepa became a symbol of my family, a symbol of life.
50 years after the tragedy, on last day of the July (‘liepa’ in Lithuanian), I was born. The first baby born into freedom in my family.
Liepa has become my totem. Its complexity and richness has accompanied me throughout the journey of life. Teaching me to search for beauty in struggle, and strength in pain.
Written with credits to my aunt Gražina, Izidorius’ first born and my fellow poetic soul. Thank you for ensuring our story and our ancestors live on in our hearts.
