When I was 20, most of my friends were starting college, moving to bigger cities, looking for work and love.
I'm sitting by the window in an empty house, looking out at the yard that for years was my whole world. Every corner of it bears the traces of my life – the bench where I spent my moments of respite, the flower bed that I tended so that my mother would have fresh vegetables, and the swing in the tree that was never used by the children because I never had any. I devoted my entire life to my parents, and now that they are gone, I feel a void that I cannot fill.
When I was 20, most of my friends were starting college, moving to bigger cities, looking for work and love. I stayed home. Mom was sick, and Dad couldn't handle taking care of her. It was my choice, but I never thought it would become my fate forever.
„Anka, you're our angel. We wouldn't have made it without you– Mom would say when I was changing her bandages after another surgery.
These words were a reward for me. I knew I was doing something important. But with each passing year, I felt like I was missing out. My friends were starting families, building careers, traveling. And I? My days passed taking care of my parents, cleaning the house, cooking dinner and fighting loneliness.
When Dad died and I was left with only Mom, I hoped that maybe something would change now. Maybe I would be able to go outside these four walls for a while. But her condition was getting worse and I couldn't leave her alone.
Every day I watched Mom fade away more and more. A thought appeared in my head that I was ashamed of myself – what would happen to me when she was gone? What would I do then? Who would I be? But I pushed these questions aside. There was so much to do.
Mom passed away two months ago. In silence, calmly, in my arms. I was left alone in the house that had been filled with her presence for years. Now every room seems empty, yet full of memories. Her armchair in the living room, the cup of tea that was always on the table, the closet full of clothes she will never wear again. Every corner reminds me of the years I spent taking care of her. But what is left for me?
Today I try to live, but I don't know how. How to find purpose when for so many years your only purpose was to take care of someone else? When everything you did was subordinate to others, and now you have no one who needs you?
I tried to occupy myself with something – I went for a walk, bought a book, started planting flowers in the garden. But each of these activities seems empty, pointless. I feel like my whole life has been filled with duty, and now that this duty is gone, I've disappeared too.
Friends who have passed away over the years sometimes call, asking how I'm doing. But what do I tell them? That I feel like I've lived a life that was never mine? That I don't know who I am or what I want?
Sometimes I wonder if it was worth it. If I should have given up everything for my parents. I know I loved them and I would do the same if I could turn back time. But does love really have to mean giving up on yourself? Was it my decision or just a necessity that over time became my prison?
Sitting by this window, I look out at a world that now seems so alien. I know I need to learn to live again – for myself, not for others. But I don’t know how to do that. Maybe one day I’ll find the answer. Maybe I’ll find a purpose that will fill the void. For now, though, I feel like I’m just a shadow of the person who for years was someone for others, but never for myself.
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