We were comfortable financially. The car and even the garage followed new apartment, furnished with imported furniture, high class by Soviet standards. My work situation was also good- I had friends at work, and functioned as a secretary of our group union, but the bug of immigration was in my heart and in my brain. Actually, I need to mention one very important factor about myself- from the early age I hated Soviet government, I hated corruption, lies that were constantly fed to us, our useless communist bosses, and I dreamed of going to Israel. America was not on my agenda.
I wanted to be in Israel, I wanted to be Jewish, but as always, I never express myself forcefully, I compromised, avoiding unpleasant situations, but I kept pushing and pushing. …show more content…
My sweet girl was a very good student, and by her own account, not very popular at school full of kids from local villages. May be because the family life was not always sunny, she became mature quite early and became my friend, confidant and advisor by the age of 11 or 12 (that dynamic had never changed). She was my biggest supporter along with my father. My father: I could talk about him for a long time. He and mom represented the entire generation of unlucky people born in Russia in the beginning of that dreadful XX century: World War I, hunger, Russian Revolution, hunger, Soviet reality, World War II, more hunger, and many unfulfilled dreams. Yet, father had a sunny personality; he was charming, kind, and generous with family and friends. Unfortunately, he could not make an extra buck to buy me a new dress at least once a year, but I never held it against him. I loved
I wanted to be in Israel, I wanted to be Jewish, but as always, I never express myself forcefully, I compromised, avoiding unpleasant situations, but I kept pushing and pushing. …show more content…
My sweet girl was a very good student, and by her own account, not very popular at school full of kids from local villages. May be because the family life was not always sunny, she became mature quite early and became my friend, confidant and advisor by the age of 11 or 12 (that dynamic had never changed). She was my biggest supporter along with my father. My father: I could talk about him for a long time. He and mom represented the entire generation of unlucky people born in Russia in the beginning of that dreadful XX century: World War I, hunger, Russian Revolution, hunger, Soviet reality, World War II, more hunger, and many unfulfilled dreams. Yet, father had a sunny personality; he was charming, kind, and generous with family and friends. Unfortunately, he could not make an extra buck to buy me a new dress at least once a year, but I never held it against him. I loved