When I was thirty -two, I became a widow with my little son in my arms. < img src = "https://zycie.news/crrops/2d5e3b/620x0/1/0/2024/12/14/xfrlcx9o85q1fs5ubni0bzb7chbxnggz6hrbtti.jpg" alt = "old lady @pexels" Style = "background-color: rgba (47.52,46,1)" > < p > Jacek was my world. We lived modestly, but dignity & ndash; I sewed clothes, cleaned up at my neighbor & oacute; in, I earned as much as I could, that he did not lack anything. I didn't complain. Because he was worth everything.
< p > with time Dor & oacute; Sł, graduated, started a family. And I … I was just looking proudly. I gave him everything & ndash; apartment, savings, plot of my parents. & AMP; BDQUO; Don't worry, mom, with us there will always be a place for you & rdquo; & ndash; m & oacute; wind.< P >Believe me, I was really happy for a moment. The granddaughter hugged me, daughter -in -law with a smile asked for the rules. I helped them in everything & ndash; I cooked, washed, I took a small ballet. I thought: this is what life looks like.
< p > but then something changed. It started with a whisper & oacute; in behind closed doors. From the plate that suddenly ran out of the table. From the looks in which & oacute; there was no longer warm. Until one day I heard a conversation, which I should not hear.< p > & ndash; She costs too much. & ndash; It was a daughter -in -law. & ndash; Medicines, doctors, care. And he sits forever at home.
< p >< br /> & ndash; I will think about it & ndash; M & oacute; j son. & ndash; Maybe she would be better in a place where she will be dealt with by professionals & hellip;< p > month p & oacute; For a nursing home. M & oacute; it was temporary. That only for a few days that I would rest. I had tears in my eyes, but I didn't protest. Because it was M & Amp; Oacute; J son.
< p > have been two years.< p > Today I look through the window of this cool room. I see leaves falling from trees, I hear nurses' laughter in the corridor. But I don't hear him. Does not come. He doesn't call. The granddaughter probably doesn't remember me anymore.
< p > I gave him everything. Love, life, achievements. And he & Hellip; He gave me to & ndash; like unnecessary piece of furniture. < P > Sometimes I ask myself if I loved too much. I trusted too much. But then I look at the photo of Jacek as a boy who I keep the pillow under the pillow, and still, after all, I hope that Wr & oacute; That he will wake up. < p > because the mother never stops waiting.