Taken from life. “Grandchildren only like me when I give money”: If I don't give, then I don't exist for them

These words hurt me more than I wanted to admit.

My grandchildren have always been my pride and joy. When they were born, I felt that life took on a new meaning. I was always ready to help – I watched them when my parents were busy, I made their favorite dinners, baked cakes. I didn't spare money either, wanting them to have everything they needed. But over time I understood that my love wasn't enough. All that mattered was what I could give them.

I noticed the first signs a few years ago when my oldest grandson, Bartek, asked me for money for a new phone. He said that his old model wasn't “good enough” anymore. I wanted to help him, but the amount he asked for was quite large.

– „Bartek, maybe you should wait a bit? Your birthday's coming up, maybe then…– I began.
He interrupted me, rolling his eyes.

– „Grandma, all my friends already have better models. I think you care about me?”

Those words hurt me more than I wanted to admit. Finally, I took out my savings and gave him what he wanted. Bartek smiled, gave a quick „thanks” and disappeared, busy with his new phone.

Over time, the requests for money started to repeat themselves. For a new laptop, for clothes, for trips. Each “no” was met with dissatisfaction, even coldness.

– “Grandma, you always said that family is the most important. Now you don't want to tell me?”

I felt guilty, like I was betraying their trust. But when I said yes, I saw only relief in their eyes, never gratitude.

But what hurt me the most was when I invited the whole family over for dinner on my birthday. I prepared my grandchildren's favorite dishes, bought them presents. Even though I'm not rich, I wanted to make them happy.

During dinner, Bartek stared at his phone, and the youngest granddaughter, Zosia, asked:

– „Grandma, what did you buy us? Because you know, mom used to say that a gift is the most important part of such meetings.”

I froze. Instead of the joy of being together, only material things mattered. When I gave them my modest gifts, Zosia shrugged.

– „That's all? I thought something would be better…”

After that day, I realized that something had gone wrong. I started helping less financially, trying to teach them that presence counts, not money. But their visits became less and less frequent. When I called Bartek once to ask why he didn't visit me so often, he replied coldly:

– „Grandma, lately you've been saying all the time that you don't have money. Why should I come if nothing will come of it?”

Those words were like a knife to the heart. Was I really only important to them when I gave something material?

Today I live alone in a house that was once filled with the laughter of my grandchildren. I realized that my love was not enough to teach them what true gratitude and respect are. Sometimes I wonder if I made a mistake, or if the world they grew up in changed their priorities.

Despite everything, I still wait for their visit, for the moment when they understand that grandma is not a wallet, but someone who loves them with all her heart. But will I live to see it? I don't know. All I know is that love, even one-sided love, never ceases to exist.

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