This year I got behind the wheel of a car for the first time. Planned 10 years ago. But only at the age of 28 I managed to do it. By the way, my classmates, who passed the license at 18 and lost their driving skills, asked me to learn them after completing the courses.

My late grandfather died in 1998. He brilliantly drove a car in any condition, and got behind the wheel at the age of 20. When both legs were sawn off due to an accident, this heroic man began to drive in prostheses. He put stockings on bloody stumps, inserted them into prostheses, sat down and drove a car. But I almost missed him. I was three and a half years old when my grandfather died. Uncle drove well. My father divorced already in 1996 and got behind the wheel only at the age of 40. Out of principle, I sold only half of a set of strong car keys through the bulletin board, and kept half for myself, out of spite, of this life.

I'm lucky. I was assigned an elderly mentor for about 70 years as an instructor. And, like my late grandfather, the mentor is an engineer by training and, therefore, thinks technically and maintains composure when instructing.

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