He was lying on the table. < img src = "https://zycie.news/crrops/8f68A6/620x0/1/0/2025/03/16/0hsli87Wte5AVPUTZ5Z0RHJ7NPDT4ND0nswu.jpg" alt = "from life taken." Quot; Mother wrote a letter to my daughter from the nursing home " styles = "background-color: rgba (118,94,77.0.57)" > < p > ordinary envelope. Ordinary sheet of paper in the middle.
< p > but my hands were trembling when I opened it.
< p > letter from the mother. From the nursing home.
< p >< em > “my dear C & oacute; reczko,< p >~ 60 > I am writing to you this letter, although I do not know if you will read it. Maybe you'll find time, or maybe you'll put it on p & oacute; and no longer to it. But I write anyway, because it is the only thing I have left & ndash; words.
< P >< I > I devoted my whole life to you. Every moment, every breath. I didn't regret a single second because you were my world. When you were born, I understood the first time what true love is & ndash; the one who is & oacute; raza does not expect anything in return.
< p >< em >I didn't have much, but I tried to give you everything. I was tired, sometimes I cried at night because I was afraid that I wouldn't give you what you deserve. I remember sitting at the lamp, donating your clothes so that you always look neat. How I put away the money for several months so that you could get your dream doll for a birthday.
60 > and then you grew up.
< p >< em > and suddenly everything changed.
< P >< I > I don't know when I became a burden for you. Maybe when I stopped keeping up with your pace of life ? maybe when my wrinkles became too visible to you ? maybe when I started to forget about things that & oacute; re for you were obvious ?~ 60 > < p >~ 60 > when you told me that I couldn't live alone anymore, I knew it was the end of my old life. You packed my things and took me here, M&P; Oacute; That I will take care, company, that I would not be lonely.
< p >< em >But, c & oacute; reczko, I have never felt as lonely in my life as now.< p >< I > I sit by the window and look at the world, which & oacute; ry stopped noticing me. Days, weeks, months pass. The faces change around me, but none of them is yours.
< p >~ 60 > I remember how you promised you will visit me. You were still coming at first. Less and less often, but always with a smile, always M&P; Oacute; you have little time, but next time you will come for longer.
< p >< em > and then you stopped coming at all.
< P >~ 60 > I saw other women here & ndash; As their children fall with bouquets, the flower & oacute; w, how they laugh together, remember the old times.
60 > A I ?
I sit in silence, waiting for steps that are never coming.< p >~ 60 > sometimes pr & oacute; I rock comfort. M & oacute; you think you have your life, your problems. That you probably don't have time. But the night comes, and I lie in my room and I think: is it so hard to find an hour for my own mother ?
< P >< I > I do not write that you feel guilty. I do not want to accuse you.
< p >< em > but I want you to know that I miss.
< p >< em > that I wait.
< p >< em > that I have no longer anyone, only you.< p >< em > and that I would love to that one day, at least for a while, wet & oacute;
~ P >< em > I will always wait.
< p >< em > mama “< p > I moved my fingers on paper.
< p > tears dripped on letters, blurring ink.
< p > I caught the keys and ran out of the house.
< p > I didn't know what I would tell her when I see her.