Lonely? Did they really believe that what I was missing was talking to strangers?
I sat in my favorite chair, looking at the table, where the documents lay. A contract with the nursing home. At the bottom were the signatures of my children. My son and daughter, my pride, for whom I had devoted my whole life every day, every moment, every penny. Now they made the decision – for me, without asking, without talking.
& bdquo;Mom, it's for your own good, & bdquo; Julia, my daughter, said when she first mentioned it. Her voice was warm, almost gentle, but I saw something else in her eyes – relief. & bdquo; You can't live alone anymore. You'll have care there, people to talk to. You will stop being lonely.”
Lonely? Did they really believe that what I missed was conversations with strangers? Did they think that their absence could be compensated by nurses and a TV in the room?
– „I have everything I need,– I said, trying to sound calm. But the truth was different. For months I had felt like I was becoming more and more of a burden. Their visits were less and less frequent, their conversations shorter and shorter. My world was shrinking to four walls and pictures on the dresser.
I remembered what our life had been like before. How happy I was when I could buy them new shoes, even though it meant I had to wear worn-out ones for a month. How I had cried with emotion when Julia passed her final exams and Tomek got his first job. I was proud of them. I always told myself that my life has meaning because they are my success.
And now? I sat here alone while they debated how to "properly accommodate me.”
A few days later, we had a conversation. We sat down at the kitchen table. Julia, as always, took the initiative.
– „Mom, we just can't give you what you need. I promise we'll come visit you. It's not like we're leaving you.”
I looked at Tomek, who was avoiding my gaze. I knew she was pulling all the strings. But it hurt even more – that he, my beloved son, didn’t have the courage to oppose me.
„I’ve given you everything I had my whole life– I said, feeling tears welling up in my eyes. – „Is it too much to expect you to be here with me now?”
Julia sighed heavily.
– „Mom, it's not about that. We're just not able to…”
– „You're not able to? Is it because you have your families? Your lives? And me? What am I to you? Duty?”
Nobody answered. The silence was like a knife that was piercing my heart deeper and deeper.
I got up from the table and left without waiting for their reaction.
I couldn't sleep at night. Their words rang in my ears, and my thoughts revolved around one question: had I really expected too much? Had the love I had given them my whole life not been enough to stay with me now?
The next day Julia called.
– „Mom, we have to think about this again. I didn't mean to hurt you.”
I didn't answer right away. Finally I said,
– „Think carefully, children. Because if you give me up, not only will you lose your mother – you will lose something you will never get back. But the decision is yours.”
I hung up the phone, feeling like something in my heart had broken forever. Maybe she was right – maybe it really was for my own good. But has anyone even asked me what I want?
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