In my years I do not indulge in sad thoughts and I think it is right that I appreciate every moment of life given by fate. It is a pity that sometimes people close enough to me interfere with this and try to remind me of the numbers written in my passport.
One weekend I came to celebrate a family holiday at my son’s dacha, but I then had to gather all my will not to spoil a good day neither for myself nor for anyone around me.
The dacha plot my son had long ago brought to the perfect place for a holiday, the only thing that spoilt the impression of the holiday was his wife, Karin. When the young woman finally got her way and formalised her relationship with her son legally, she immediately tried to take the reins of power into her own hands and show who really had authority over her husband. But the son kept silent, taking an indifferent neutral position, although he saw and understood everything perfectly well.
The day was hot, the guests gathered by the pool, and I came there in my favourite swimming costume, but as soon as I lay down on the lounger, I heard a loud comment from my daughter-in-law about the indecent, in her opinion, open swimming costume and my age. It really hurt me, and for a while I just lay there with my eyes closed until I realised that I could cope with my emotions.
After a pause, I went back into the house, took out my son and daughter-in-law’s wedding album and offered the guests photographs from twenty years ago, in which Karin clearly lost out to me in looks. As I expected, there were much more compliments to my address, the bride was noted so, out of politeness …
The daughter-in-law, put in her place, thank God, realised that she had behaved, to put it mildly, incorrectly, and apologised, though only very softly….
Later, in the evening, I heard my son ask his wife not to repeat such mistakes and to be at least more polite to me.
