What could be scarier than loneliness? When there’s no one to talk to except a dog? When your only son turns away from you and it seems that you aren’t needed by anyone in the whole world—and that the best is already behind you?
Yevgenia had heard many times that things like this happen, but she never thought it would happen to her. Yet it did. And now she had to think about how to live on, how to cope with the тоска that came on so often and so untimely.
“We are responsible for those we have tamed.” We repeat this line from Saint-Exupéry so often that it becomes worn out, even banal. But there’s no other cure for loneliness than finding a person who is worse off than you—and helping them, warming them, “taming” them.
Pleasing with little things: a bowl of hot soup on a cold day, a simple olivie salad on New Year’s night, freshly washed floors and a dressed-up Christmas tree.
For Yevgenia, this became a recipe against тоска, a medicine for loneliness.