Hardest decision a mother can make

I PICKED up my returning Ukrainian guests Zoriana and Ustym at Luton airport on September 1, a day before Ustym’s 18th birthday.

At that age, since the war began, young men are not allowed to leave the country and could be asked to fight.

We went out for a celebratory dinner the next day. He smiled, but was not a happy young man.

Zoriana, mad with worry, insisted we find him a university place. What could he study? She settled for IT or International Relations at Middlesex.

Ustym had nothing to say on the matter. When his mother went out later, I asked what did he want?

He wanted to take up his place at Lviv University to study medicine and stay with friends in a flat there. It’s a four-and-a-half-year course. He can’t be called up as a student.

I told Zoriana this and said I thought he should make his own choice, otherwise he would come to resent her.

The next day she booked flights. And today, my honorary grandson, Ustym Zvir, begins his studies to become a doctor. I’m proud of him — and of Zoriana.