Short Story: After The War
"The little bird has returned to its nest at last"
Katya Grigoreva has returned home after ten long years in Moscow. However, she is disappointed to find how much things have changed in her beloved village after WWII. A sh...
It is not a secret that she tried so desperately to hide, and not that I didn't realise this from a very young age myself; yes it was certain, her eyes said it all if not her actions, that my grandmother absolutely hated me! It is evident that she had always held me in great contempt, and that I was a disgrace to her family, and I didn't resemble my father in any regards.
Perhaps what put her off the most is that I'm more like my mother! I suppose that nothing worried her more than her grandchildren not turning out to be like her children....
When I was young, I often received the remark "You are exactly like your mother!", which I always thought of as a compliment. I had always thought (infact, I still do) that my mother is a delightfully beautiful creature. I suppose every child feels the same, that their mother is the most beautiful woman in the whole wide world, if not the prettiest! So naturally, I was more than flattered upon receiving the particular comment and nothing pleased me much more than to be placed in the very same status as my dear mother.
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But only now I realise what my grandmother meant when she said that; that I'm näive, frightfully stupid and lazy (because she regarded my mother in that light).
I've never heard her say one kind word to my Maman, let alone to me, and she had made it her purpose in life to criticize almost everything my Maman did. I think that is why I too hated her, not because she hated me, but for the way she treated my Maman. And Oh God, did I loathe her! I loathed and despised her more than anyone else...
She had always made my life a miserable one. I've always been called the 'stupid' one, not at all clever like my other siblings. Not that I didn't know that I never had any particular claims over either distinguished beauty or brains, but I think she found it absolutely necessary to make me realise it. I was always embarassed when she pointed out my weaknesses to me. It was a dent on my reputation, my self esteem! _______________________________________________
My father was her only son, the youngest of the two. Everyone knew she was very proud of her children. Very proud...
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She didn't regard them as her children, but as extensions of her own personality. She spoiled them, molycoddled them, pampered them, and took their side no matter what. Her children could never be wrong. Oh no! They were never fallible!
It struck me that she was the possessive kind, a toxic person, but capable of showering all of her affections upon her own children nevertheless! Perhaps that was one of the things I admired about her, she loved her children unconditionally. They were the very centre of her world! And I don't think she ever cared a button about her husband or even for her own grandchildren.
Her children! That was all that mattered.
As to what I think, my father didn't turn out to be like her (fortunately), except for her daughter- Aunt Mariya, whom I despised as much as I despised my grandmother, if not more.
She was a narcissist who thought only for herself and those that mattered to her. She was ungrateful too, no matter what I tried to do. And that used to disappoint me very much, I always kept on trying to do my best to please her, but she only retorted back instead of acknowledging me for my efforts. And that is precisely what the trouble was! She was never satisfied! Always complaining, always mumbling, always so tiring...
