Over time, I stopped trying to get her attention.
As far as I can remember, my mother always favored my brother, Krzysztof. He was the “best kid”, “our golden boy”. Mom always found time for him, praised him for everything, even the smallest achievements, while my successes were treated with indifference. When I brought home good grades, all I heard was: & bdquo;Good, but Krzysztof had straight A's at your age.” When I tried to be close to her, I always felt like I was in the background.
Over time, I stopped trying to get her attention. I focused on my own life, my studies, my career, building my independence. At that time, Krzysztof lived a life full of chaos – failed relationships, constant job changes, and yet he always found shelter in his mother's house. “He needs help,” she explained to me when I asked why she still supported him. “You're strong, you can handle it yourself.”
Over the years, our contact weakened. We met sporadically, and I always felt that I was more of an obligation to her than a daughter. When I found out that my mother was seriously ill, I felt a mixture of sadness and anger. Sadness because, despite everything, she was my mother. Anger because I knew now that he was in need, he would look my way – not the way of the “golden boy.”
One day she called. Her voice was weak, as if she was struggling to form the words. „ Kasia, I need your help,– she said quietly. „ I can't do it alone. Krzysztof… he has his own life, I can't burden him.”
The words were like a knife to the heart. „And I don't have my own life, mom?– I asked, trying to hide the tremor in my voice.
„You were always the responsible one, the one you could rely on.” – she replied, as if that explained everything.
I was silent for a moment, trying to understand how it was possible that after years of ignoring me she now expected me to sacrifice my life for her. Finally I said, „Mom, have you ever wondered how I felt all these years? How it was to see you always put Christopher before me? And now that I need you, I should just forget about everything?”
There was silence. After a moment, Mom replied, „I didn’t know you felt that way.”
„Because you never asked– I replied, feeling tears welling up in my eyes.
Despite everything, I decided to help her. I organized care, visited her regularly, took care of things that Krzysztof avoided. But every meeting with her was difficult. I felt the unspoken weight of the past hanging between us.
One day, when I was giving her medication, she looked at me with a shy smile. „Kasia, I know I was unfair to you. I'm sorry.”
Those words, although delayed, caused a mixture of relief and pain in me. “I don't know if I can forgive you,” I answered honestly. “But I'm trying.”
Today I take care of my mother, although I still feel that I do it out of a sense of duty, not out of love, which should be natural between a mother and a daughter. Krzysztof, as usual, is absent, putting everything on me. Maybe one day I will find the strength to truly forgive her. But for now I live with the feeling that although I have always been her “other one,” And that's what hurts the most.
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