But life can surprise us – not always in the way we expect.
Once, I couldn't imagine life without my daughter. She was my joy, my support, my pride. Ever since her father left when she was just a few years old, I did everything to make sure she lacked nothing. I worked overtime, I denied myself everything so she could have a better life. I was sure that one day, when I was older, we would support each other.
But life can surprise us – not always in the way we expect.
It all started with small signals. I began to notice that my daughter, Marta, was visiting me less and less often. When I called to ask if she could help me with shopping or a doctor's visit, her answers were increasingly cursory.
– „Mom, I don't have time now. Maybe in a week.”
A week turned into a month, and then into more excuses. I thought she was just busy – work, kids, everyday life. I didn't want to be a burden, so I tried to cope on my own, although it was getting harder with each passing day.
Everything changed when I broke my hip. After I left the hospital, I needed help with the simplest of tasks. I called Marta with hope, thinking that now, in the face of such a situation, she would show that I could count on her.
Her reaction was cold, as if I was talking to a stranger.
– „Mom, this is too much for me. I have my own life. I think the best solution would be a nursing home. They will know how to take care of you there.”
I couldn't believe what I heard. My own daughter, for whom I had sacrificed everything, was telling me that she didn't want to take care of me? That I was “too much” for her? I tried to talk to her, explain that I didn't need much, just a little support. But her decision was unwavering.
– „Mom, this isn't a matter of feelings. It's simply a practical solution. You have to understand that.”
I couldn't sleep for the next few days. The thought of leaving my home, the place where I had spent my whole life, filled me with terror. I imagined lonely evenings in a strange place, among people I didn't know. But what hurt me most was that it was my daughter, my beloved Marta, who wanted to send me there.
One day, when I was trying to pack a few things, the phone rang. It was my granddaughter, Zosia.
– „Grandma, mom says you're going to live somewhere else. Why??”
I didn't know what to say. I could hear sadness and incomprehension in her voice. That's when I decided I had to fight for myself. I called Marta and said:
„You won't put me in a nursing home. This is my home and this is where I want to stay. If you truly love me, you will find a way to help me.”
The silence on the other end lasted longer than I expected. Finally Marta answered:
– „Mom, I don't know if I can do this.”
But at least it had started a conversation. Maybe this was the beginning of a path to rebuilding our relationship, maybe not. But I knew one thing – I have to fight for my dignity, even if it means difficult conversations and painful moments.
Today I still live in my own house. Marta sometimes comes over, although our relationship is far from ideal. I am still trying to understand what went wrong, why our bonds have weakened. But I know one thing for sure – a mother’s love is unwavering, even if it is sometimes put to the toughest tests.
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