I was sitting at the table, looking at my children, who had come with their grandchildren to spend Christmas Eve together.
Christmas has always been a time of hope and closeness for me. Every year I happily prepared holiday meals, decorated the tree and waited for my children and grandchildren, who filled my home with warmth and joy. But this year everything was different. My home, which had been full of life for years, was filled with cold – not only physical, but also emotional. This was supposed to be a holiday I would never forget, but not in the way I had imagined.
I sat at the table, looking at my children, who had come with their grandchildren to spend Christmas Eve together. At first glance, everything looked normal – borscht was steaming in bowls, and the smell of pierogi was in the air. But in their eyes I saw something I couldn't understand. Instead of joy – distance. Instead of warmth – a boy.
When we had broken the wafer and eaten dinner, my daughter, Ewa, looked at her brother, Michał. They exchanged knowing glances, as if they were agreeing on something that was about to happen.
– “Mom, we need to talk,” Ewa began, her tone surprisingly serious.
I glanced at her worriedly, but tried to stay calm.
– “What's the matter, honey?”
Michał took a deep breath and looked at me as if to soften what was about to come.
– „Mom, we've decided that… you should move into a nursing home next year.”
The words were like a slap in the face. I froze, staring at them, unable to believe what I was hearing.
– „What? What are you talking about?”
Ewa looked at me with forced calm.
– „Mom, you can't live alone anymore. It's dangerous. The house is big, cold, it's hard for you to keep order here. We're worried about you.”
– „But I've always managed! Did I do something wrong? Why do you want to send me to a nursing home?!”
Michał looked down, as if he couldn't look at my tears that were starting to flow down my cheeks.
– „Mom, this is for your own good. In a nursing home, you'll have care, company. We have our own lives, children, responsibilities… We can't be here every day to watch over you.”
Their words were like another blow. Everything I'd done for them all these years – every night I'd stayed by their bedside, every meal I'd prepared with love, every penny I'd saved so they could have a better start in life – now it seemed like nothing.
I was a burden to them.
– „I thought I was a part of your lives, that I could count on you– I whispered, feeling my heart break.
Ewa tried to hug me, but I pulled away from her. I couldn't stand their touch, which now seemed fake.
– „Mom, it's not like that. We love you, but you have to understand that this is the best solution.”
– „For whom? For you? Because for me it means I'm losing everything – my home, my independence, my life!”
That evening the holiday atmosphere disappeared. The children returned to their homes, and I was left alone. I looked at the empty table, at the Christmas tree that now seemed cold and alien. My home, my place on earth that I had spent my whole life building, would soon cease to be mine.
I couldn't sleep that night. I kept hearing their words in my head: „It's for your own good.” But did anyone ask me?? Did anyone consider what I wanted?? I didn't want a nursing home, I didn't want to be alone among strangers. I only wanted one thing – to be with my family, to whom I have devoted my whole life.
I know that next year my life will change. The children have made a decision, and I do not have the strength to fight. But I will never forget this Christmas Eve. It was the day when I understood that sometimes love and gratitude are just words that pale in the face of comfort. And I was left alone, with a house full of memories and a heart full of pain.
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