З життя
Кожного ранку 8 березня: дитячі спогади зі стуком у двері
Коли ми з сестрою були маленькими, кожен ранок 8 березня починався зі стуку в двері та питання: «Дами, ви одягнені? Чи можна зайти?»
Дівчата в ситцевих ночнушках кричали у відповідь, що вони цілком одягнені, отож швидше заходьте. Тим паче, ми знаємо, що у вас там подаруночки!
До кімнати заходив тато з двома букетами квітів і двома однаковими коробками, в яких лежали однакові ляльки.
Тато кілька разів намагався робити нам різні подарунки, але швидко зрозумів, що це не найкраща ідея: старшій доньці (мені) здавалося, що її безпідставно обділили, і у Маші лялька краща й більша, а молодшій (це Машуня) завжди здавалось, що її недолюблюють, і спеціально обирають такі маленькі ляльки, щоб підкреслити її дитячий вік.
Переживши одну нашу потужну і подвійну жіночу істерику, тато передчасно посивів, і з того часу став дарувати нам виключно однакові подарунки.
І ми з Машею завжди були впевнені: 8 березня — це такий день, коли Головний Чоловік в Світі приходить вранці до тебе з квітами та коробками, і з чимось вітає.
Яке ж воно це свято 8 березня — це неважливо. Для нас це був день, коли приходив Головний Чоловік з Квітами і Подарунками.
Тоді тато був у нас єдиним чоловіком у нашому житті (дідусь же не рахується — він же не чоловік, а старенький дідусь, як ви не розумієте?). Єдиним і Головним. Інших не було.
А потім минули роки.
І у мене, і у Машуні з’являлися інші Головні Чоловіки, які вранці 8 березня приносили нам квіти й подарунки. І якось так виявлялося, що ми поспішили їм привласнити такий титул. Не дуже-то вони, зрештою, виявлялися чоловіками. І вже тим більше, загалом не Головними.
Титул знову повертався до нашого тата. Тато носив його гордо, звично, і не змінював традиції з однаковими коробочками. Причому, в тих коробочках вже могли лежати різні подарунки, але самі коробочки, чорт забирай, досі завжди однакові!
Потім у нас з Машуньою з’явилися сини. Єдині. По одному у кожної. Маленькі Головні Чоловіки. І, поки вони росли, наш тато як і раніше виконував свої березневі обов’язки. Бо — ну коли ще там підросте його заміна? А доньки ж чекають своїх квітів і коробочок.
Мій син виріс якось дуже швидко. І я не встигла навіть помітити: а коли ж раптом сталося так, що він раптом став комусь ще Головним Чоловіком? І вранці 8 березня я отримую від нього лише телефонний дзвінок: «Мамочко, зі святом тебе! Не хвилюйся, я у Маші, повернуся в неділю».
Але!
Але цей дзвінок все одно слідує лише після дзвінка тата, і питання: «Моя дамо, ти одягнена? До візиту готова?»
…У житті кожної жінки повинні бути Чоловіки. Справжні. З великої літери. Чоловіки, сини, брати… Але Найголовнішим може бути лише хтось один. Не обов’язково це тато. Не у всіх же є тати. І брати. І сини. Але у кожної є хтось Найголовніший.
Той, з кого роками і десятиліттями починається ранок 8 березня.
У нас з Машуньою — це наш тато. Для якого ми з самого народження були і залишаємося Його Дамами.
Адже найважливіше для жінки — знати, що її дуже люблять.
Зі святом всіх нас, любі та люблячі.
І дякую за цей день нашим Найголовнішим Чоловікам.
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