My husband passed away a few years ago.
I have taken care of my family my whole life. First my parents, then my husband and children. My house was always full of laughter, conversation, the smell of freshly baked bread and the sound of little feet running across the wooden floor.
But those days are gone.
My husband left a few years ago. The children grew up and went their own way. I was left alone.
At first, I didn't feel this loneliness so strongly. There was a house, there were memories. I took care of myself, tended the garden, went for walks, read books. My time, my life.
Until one day my daughter, Ewa, sat down in front of me and said:
„Mom, we have to talk.”
I knew that look. This wasn't a conversation, this was a decision I had no right to question.
„I don't think you should live alone,– she began. „It's dangerous, you're getting older. And in a nursing home you would have everything you need.”
Nursing home.
I froze.
“Ewa, I don't want to go to a nursing home– I said quietly.
“Mom, it's for your own good– she added in a soothing tone.
For my own good?
She didn't ask me what I wanted. She didn't ask if I was happy where I was.
She looked at me like I was someone who needed to be taken care of. Someone who no longer had the right to decide for herself.
“But I won't fit in there– I tried again. „This is my home, my things, my world.”
She sighed, as if I were a child who didn't understand what was being said to her.
„Mom, we can't visit you every day. You won't be alone there, you'll meet new people, the doctors will be there.”
Doctors? People? I didn't need doctors. I didn't want strange faces that would look at me with pity.
„Ewa” – I said slowly. „I want to stay here. This is my home.”
Her gaze hardened.
„Mom, but we've already made our decision.”
We.
Not „you”.
No „we'll think it over together”.
Only „we” we made the decision for you.
I looked at her and suddenly I understood. I was no longer a mother who had the right to choose. I was a problem to be solved.
I couldn't sleep that night. I was afraid.
Not this nursing home.
I was afraid that my own daughter no longer saw me as a person. Just a burden that needed to be put somewhere.
And I asked myself: Did I really deserve this?