Once upon a time

35

So here I am at 35, thought Lina. She hadn't had much desire to celebrate for the past five years. She still bought wine, prepared small snacks, and ordered a cake, but that was it. Whoever showed up, she would celebrate with them. If no one came—perfect excuse for a family dinner. Lina had taken a long time to recover from her parents' divorce, first on her own, then with a therapist. Once, she had been ill for an entire year; mononucleosis left a trail of fatigue for many months. She traveled a lot - first with her husband, then she got used to it and couldn’t live without the changes. By the way, her last husband was the third, and all three of her children were from different men. With her first child, she worked a lot, and a babysitter helped, so with the second, she decided to simply be a mom for a while. To walk, bake cookies with her daughter, go to the movies in the middle of the day. It was such a good period of second childhood, when the child was already tired of building castles, and you just started to get into it, and it was okay to “hang out” in childish games under the cover of parenting. Now, with her son, she worked a bit, mostly to stay in professional circles rather than for earning money.

What else was there? Almost everything - scandals after the first divorce, a couple of years in a foreign country with children without knowing the language, side jobs to survive, moving back to her mom’s because she had no strength left. Hopes in the second marriage, infidelity, exhaustion. And now, a bit of sunshine in the cold water. And if you ask her - what plans do you have for the next 20 years, what do you dream of? It wouldn’t include a villa in a warm climate, a round-the-world trip, or a dizzying career. Only walks with her husband on the beach, bubbles with her son, an hour in the bath with candles, a good book, always in paper form, the first snow, and late-night talks with a friend until 5 AM on a wide windowsill, just like tonight. And why not? Small rays of happiness - that’s already a lot. Perhaps they make up what is loudly called a “happy life.”