By the age of sixty-nine, I realized: the most terrifying lie is when children say “we love you”, but in reality, they only love your pension and your apartment.
“Mom, we’ve been thinking,” my son Oleg began cautiously, barely stepping across the threshold. His wife Anya, standing behind him, nodded vigorously, as if to confirm the wisdom of his every word. She carried into the hallway the scent of expensive perfume — and a sickly-sweet hint of unease. “That always ends badly,” I muttered … Read more