Alena V. (LSE)

An elderly lady I know called me and said: “I’ve missed you so much. I’m calling because I just want to have a heart-to-heart. Last Wednesday, April 25th, at twelve noon, I went to the ‘Magnit’ store—the one in our courtyard; it’s been there for two years now, but there used to be a grocery store there before that. Well, anyway, I spent twenty minutes in the store and bought two hundred grams of Rossiyskiy cheese for 197 rubles—last time I got it for 230... I left the store, walked a little way, and fell. I looked up and saw House No. 87 nearby, and I thought, I live in House No. 85... Two people came up to me—a man and a woman; the man was quite well-dressed... They picked me up, and I told them: ‘I live in House No. 85, second entrance, sixth floor, apartment No. 71.’ You see, Lenochka, what I’ve become—falling in the middle of the street; well, I did turn eighty-nine on April 12th. Both my daughter and my son came for my birthday; my son graduated from the academy, and my daughter works as a chief accountant...”

And yesterday, the elderly lady called again. Our conversations are always one-sided—she talks about how one ought to live: get a higher education, work, have children, and take care of the home. She constantly complains about her grandson, who spends his nights writing music, poetry, and painting... “It’s not right! You should sleep at night!” she says. “I tell the children over and over, but they say he has talents. If he has talents, he still needs to finish institute, get a diploma, get married, work, and have children. But the way he lives—is that any way to live?”

Source: How to Raise a Child Without Complexes by O. Mikhevnina