I have devoted my entire life to my family.
The house is quiet, too quiet. This place used to be full of life – children running through the hallways, laughter echoing at every moment, and the kitchen always smelling of freshly baked bread. Today, all I hear is the ticking of the clock and my own breathing. I sit in my armchair, and around me are memories that are both warm and painful.
I have devoted my entire life to my family. I was 20 when I got married. My husband, Janek, worked from dawn till dusk, and I took care of the house and the children. I was the one who got up first and went to bed last. I cooked, cleaned, did laundry, helped with homework.
When the children got sick, I stayed with them all night. When Janek lost his job, I supported him, finding odd jobs to support the family. I didn't complain. That was my role, my mission.
The children grew up and flew away from home. My son went abroad, my daughter settled in another city. They rarely called, and visits were limited to holidays, if at all. Janek died a few years ago, and I was left alone in this big house that had once been full of life. That was when I first felt how lonely I was.
A few months ago, my health problems began. My heart, which had been beating for others for years, began to fail. The doctor says I need help – someone has to be there for me when I'm weaker. I called my son, hoping he would understand.
– Mom, you know I have a lot on my mind. Work, kids… Maybe you can find someone to take care of?I can help you financially– he replied, as if it were the simplest solution.
I didn't want money. I wanted someone to just be there for me, to talk, to give me a glass of water when I didn't have the strength to get up. Is that so much?
I tried with my daughter. Her response was similar.
– Mom, I really wish I could help, but you know how it is. Work, loans, everyday chaos. Maybe you should look for a nursing home? They'll take good care of you there.
Nursing home? Is this my future now? Spending the rest of my life in a strange place, with strange people, because my family doesn't have time?
I look at the pictures hanging on the wall – my children, smiling, holding their diplomas, pictures of their weddings, the birth of their grandchildren. I was there for each of those moments, supporting them when they needed it most. And now, when I need support, they're not there.
Every day I ask myself the same question: Did I do something wrong? Was I too good, too available, too ready to sacrifice? I always thought my family was my greatest achievement, my greatest happiness. But now, as I sit here alone, I wonder if they think about me even for a moment.
Maybe the day will come when I hear the doorbell, when someone says: „Mom, I came to help you.” Maybe. But today I know that this loneliness is my greatest enemy. And I don't think anyone will understand how much it hurts to know that I gave everything and ended up with nothing.
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