З життя
Я стану бабусею… Як прийняти різницю у віці в 12 років?
Я скоро стану бабусею… Але як змиритися з тим, що вона старша за мого сина на 12 років?
Іноді, особливо після розлучення з Олександром, мені хочеться просто зникнути. Втекти кудись подалі від усіх – від сусідів, подруг, родичів, навіть від власного відображення в дзеркалі. Сховатися, щоб перезавантажити себе, дати втомленому серцю тишу і шанс жити заново.
У такі моменти я беру книжку, загортаюся в плед, влаштовуюся на дивані в своїй новій квартирі, придбаній після поділу майна, і просто дихаю свободою. Син приходить рідко — Валентин, мій єдиний, нещодавно відзначив двадцять п’ять років. У нього робота, друзі, своє життя. Він не обтяжує мене, не вимагає уваги. І я вдячна за це, хоч часом мені й нестерпно самотньо.
Сім місяців тому в сусідню квартиру переїхала Надія. Жінка з проникливим поглядом і лагідною усмішкою, років тридцяти. З першої зустрічі вона мені сподобалася — ввічлива, щира. Ми швидко подружилися. То вона мене запрошувала на чашку кави, то я — на келих вина.
Виявилося, життя у Надії було зовсім не простим: два розлучення, викидень, безпліддя. Кожного разу, коли вона згадувала про це, в її очах були сльози. Але головне — вона мріяла не просто про дитину, а про міцну родину, про чоловіка, який був би поруч і в горі, і в радості.
Я, з висоти своїх років, намагалася її надихнути. Казала, що не обов’язково шукати любов цілого життя — можна знайти просто хорошу людину, яка підходить як донор, і народити для себе. Головне — дитина. А чоловік… ну що ж, вони приходять і йдуть. Але Надія була непохитна. Їй була потрібна не тільки материнська, але й подружня любов.
І ось, на Миколая — мої іменини — я запросила тільки Валентина. Нам треба було спокійно поговорити, бо він щойно розійшовся з дівчиною, з якою жив три роки. Та обрала іншого — багатого, старшого, “перспективного”. Валентин переживав, і мені довелося добирати для нього слова, втішати, нагадувати, що все ще попереду.
І раптом… у двері подзвонили. На порозі стояла Надія з розкішним букетом. Ми з Валентином запросили її зайти, влаштували теплий вечір втрьох. Їли, пили, сміялися. Валентин, вперше за довгий час, залишився у мене ночувати. Я була щаслива — мій хлопчик нарешті посміхався.
Минуло кілька тижнів. Валентин став частіше приходити. Надія — навпаки, віддалилася. Але виглядала вона інакше — якось світлішою, спокійнішою. Коли я запитала, чи не сталося чогось доброго, вона загадково посміхнулася і сказала: «Можливо. Поки що рано казати».
А потім настав День святого Валентина. Вранці Надія зателефонувала: «Тримайте за мене кулачки. Сьогодні важливий день». Ввечері я побачила, як вона повертається з величезним букетом фрезій. Одна. Без чоловіка, без проводжання. Мені стало трохи прикро за неї.
Через кілька хвилин пролунав дзвінок у двері. Я відчинила — і переді мною стояв Валентин, за його спиною — Надія. Вони обоє збентежено перезирнулися, і Валентин, кашлянувши, видихнув:
— Мамо… вітаю! Ти скоро станеш бабусею.
У мене підкосилися ноги. Ця Надія? Моя подруга-сусідка? Та сама, якій я радила не зволікати, народжувати, шукати донора… А виявилося, донором став мій син.
Боже, на що ж я її підштовхнула… І як тепер прийняти різницю у віці — їй 36, йому 24. А я ж щиро бажала їй щастя. Але не з моїм сином!
Тепер я сиджу в тиші і думаю: що ж тепер робити? З одного боку — онук чи онучка. Радість. З іншого — шок і біль. Але ж серце… воно теж прагне тепла. Може, і вони знайшли своє щастя в цьому дивному, нерівному союзі?
Мабуть, доведеться вчитися прощати. Смирятися. І згадувати, що життя не завжди йде за сценарієм. Але якщо в ньому з’являється дитина — значить, воно триває.
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