I couldn't believe what I was hearing.
I'm sitting on a park bench, wrapped in my winter coat, looking at the snow that's slowly covering the ground. My phone in my pocket is silent, even though I want it to ring. I want it to be my son, who'll say that everything he said was a mistake. But he's silent. He's been silent since he blurted out those words that destroyed my heart.
„Mom, there's no place for you in our house. You have to understand that.”
I couldn't believe what I was hearing. I looked at him, my only son, the man I had sacrificed everything for. I was the one who had sold my apartment so he and his wife could buy their dream home. I believed we would be a family, that there would always be a place for me. But now I stood before him, feeling my life fall to pieces.
– „How can you say that? I gave you everything I had! My money bought you this house!”
His gaze was cold, as if the words I was saying had no meaning to him.
– „Mom, it was your decision. We didn't ask you to. And now we have to think about our own lives. We have children, we have plans. We can't take care of you.”
Every word he said was like another blow. Did I raise him wrong?? Or did I make some mistake that I didn't even notice?? Or maybe a mother's love is always too great, too unconditional for children to understand??
A few months ago I sold my apartment. It was a difficult decision, but I was sure that I was doing it out of love. My son, Tomek, told me about his money problems, how hard it was to pay off the mortgage, how much they wanted a bigger house for their children. I didn't think twice. My apartment was small, and I thought I would find warmth and safety there. “I'll live with them,” I kept repeating to myself. “I'll be close to my grandchildren, I'll help them, and they'll help me.”
But the reality turned out to be different. When I moved in, I immediately felt like an intruder. My daughter-in-law would steal glances, my grandchildren would ask me why I was always home. Tomek tried to be nice, but I could see that my presence was overwhelming them.
And now I'm sitting here, in the park, without a home, without a plan. I don't know where to go. The money from selling the apartment was invested in their house a long time ago. I only have small savings that can cover a few months of rent. I feel like I'm a burden to them that they never wanted.
I'm trying to understand how this happened. How could a mother's love be so rejected? Where did I go wrong? Maybe I was naive, believing that you could give everything and receive at least a little gratitude in return.
I get up from the bench and walk forward. I still have his words in my head, echoing like an echo. I don't know what the future will bring, but I know one thing – I have to start over, even from scratch. Without an apartment, without a son, but with the hope that I will find a place where I will be truly welcome.
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