ADBIS 1996

This picture was taken at the ADBIS conference in Moscow in September 1996. I do not remember who took it and why, or when I got the print: printing pictures was not instantaneous then. It was the same strange time. I didn’t have a visa yet and was waiting for the second set of documents. I was mentally half gone, but I still didn’t tell anybody. I remember a couple of social activities, but the overall picture of that conference is pretty hazy in my memories.

It was the first time ADBIS had become an international conference, not just a gathering of Russian professors and researchers hanging out with a hadnful Western colleagues. As I had said many times, one part of me was sure I would return in two years because, despite John Roseman’s words, I could not imagine living anywhere except Saint Petersburg.

The other part of me was similarly sure I was leaving for good. All the things I could not forgive my mom for were still raw and hurting, and this other part of me was hoping never to see her again. I didn’t see any way for Boris and me to achieve any stability in our relationships, and this other part of me was thinking that I would start my life fresh, meet some other man, and live happily ever after. I think this was also Pam’s intention: she didn’t know about Boris; on paper, I was a single mother of three, and Val was divorced, and supposedly, we didn’t have anybody else to lean on.
I always have the same thoughts when yet another anniversary of my coming to America is approaching. I think about how little I knew about what the future held.

Today, I was talking to Boris on FaceTime, and at one moment, we stopped talking and just looked at each other. And I felt so strongly how lucky we are to have each other and how much our lives have changed because we have each other—not only the family/personal life but also the professional life and overall what kind of humans we have become.

It’s crazy even to think about this: I would never decide to go to America if I weren’t sure we couldn’t resolve our issues. I am thinking: if my mom and grandpa weren’t both so difficult, and if my mom could secure my grandpa’s apartment after his death, Boris and I would have a place to live. And I would never ever decide to go anywhere. And that apartment was so small and miserable that it would be a miserable life. But I wouldn’t know about it.

And even more horrifying, if we never entered these relationships… We would both live our lives and think that everything is great, and we would be different people (I can see it clearly—what kind of people we would be!).

OK, seasonal thoughts:), and one more night, I am up way later than I planned! I am leaving myself here, on September 15, 1996, and I can’t even imagine how somebody could be as ignorant as I was!

My historical posts are being published in random order. Please refer to the page Hettie’s timeline to find where exactly each post belongs and what was before and after.