We have a dear friend in the Bronx. When we became friends soon after coming from the USSR, her son Dmitry was only 18, as my daughter, and just one year younger than my son.
Now he is turning 37 in December, but for us he is still the same Dmitry we remember him from nearly 20 years ago.
He came to stay with us with his wife Julia. He has MBA and works in accounting for a ocean freight company. She is a medical technician and works in the Hospital.
They are typical Americans. in their case – Russian Americans. Last year they bought a small condo in Yonkers, and every morning they go to work, making payment for his and hers student loans, mortgage, car payment… They have a town home in Venetian Bay, but it is rented long term.
They stayed with us one week spending most of the time at the pool, went to the beach, shopped at our local stores. We had good time sitting in the evening at the kitchen table and talking.
On Sunday just after the came my son took them to Jacksonville for an incredible air show (check Sharon Alters’ blog post about the show), but other than that they stayed in Daytona Beach Shores.
They left on Saturday, obviously unwillingly, instead of 7 in the morning they left after 2 PM. We asked them to call us when they get to home (they are driving).
They decided not to wake us early in the morning on Sunday, and when I woke up, I saw the text message from Dmitry “Got Home. Thanks. Want back to Florida. You are lucky”
Yes, Dmitry, we are…
P.S. I would not be surprised to learn that he is checking classifieds for jobs now…