З життя
Mum Blocked My Number on Tuesday Afternoon: Suddenly, Instead of Ringing, I Heard a Mechanical “The Subscriber Is Out of Reach”—This Wasn’t a Parenting Lesson Out of a Book
So, my mum blocked my number on Tuesday afternoon, just like that. One minute, Im calling her, and instead of ringing, I get that robotic number not available message. It wasnt one of those tough love lessons you read about in parenting books, it was pure desperation. Shed simply had enough of my monthly could you please send me just a bit? Need to get through till Monday routine.
Im twenty-two, and honestly, I used to think the world owed me something. Regular jobs with average wages felt beneath me. I was always waiting for the big break, and while I waited, Mums bank transfers kept me afloat. The money flew out of my account for pointless stuff: games, nights out, takeaways, because cooking myself sounded like too much effort.
When the landlord realised I wasnt going to pay rent, he literally pointed me to the door. All I had left was Dads old Ford Focus and my dog Dukea German Shorthaired Pointer and basically my best mate, always patiently waiting after another of my nights out.
The first night sleeping in the car, I still thought itd be temporary. By the third night, I felt myself crash into reality: my food stash was gone. I had only coins left in my pocket. I got myself a Pot Noodle and grabbed the cheapest dog food I could find at the corner shop for Duke. But in the morning, he couldnt even stand up. His body was used to special food, and now something went wrong. Duke just lay there in the back seat, breathing heavy, looking at me with such sad eyeslike he was saying goodbye. Pointers have sensitive stomachs, and I, being selfish, hadnt bothered to spend the extra money for decent food last week.
I drove to Mums in our hometown, hoping for a warm meal and a bit of kindness. But the lock on the front door had been changed. I stood under the window, tried calling hercomplete silence. Texted hernothing.
I slumped on the pavement, feeling totally lost. A neighbour from the downstairs flat brought me a bag.
Sarah wanted me to give you this.
Inside was some special dog food and medicine for Duke. Not a single penny. No note. Just the packagea clear sign she cared for the dog, but had nothing more to say to me.
I wanted to get Duke to the vet, but the car failed me at the worst momentthe battery was completely dead. No money for a cab, no mates nearby. The clinic was a few neighbourhoods away.
So I carried Duke, all thirty kilos of him. It wasnt some film scene. I was gasping for breath, soaked in sweat, stopping every few steps because my legs were buckling. People just avoided me, like I was homeless. When I finally reached the clinic, I collapsed on a bench, Duke in my lap.
The vet, who knew Dad from years ago, checked Duke, then looked at me closely:
You carried him all this way?
The car wouldnt start, I managed to say.
Need a job? My mates looking for labourers at his scrap yard. Its tough, but the pays fair. Give it a goyou might manage. If not, Ill take Duke, because youll ruin the poor thing if you keep going like this.
I took the job. Not because I suddenly became a hero, but because I was genuinely scared. I worked at the scrapyard late every night, got used to the hard work, and slept in the car until Id saved enough for a tiny room in a hostel.
I changed. That carefree attitude disappeared. The guy in the mirror now had tired eyes and hands toughened by work, but the look was calm. I finally understood the value of every pound.
Six months later, I went to see Mumnot to ask for anything. I walked in, quietly put some cash on the table, and fixed the kitchen tap and the bedroom door, things Id been meaning to do for ages.
My mum stood nearby. She didnt blame me, didnt lecture. She just came over and put her hand on my shoulder. For the first time in ages, I felt like a grown man, not just her boy.
She hadnt blocked me because she stopped loving me. She did it because it hurt too much to see me so weak. Sometimes, you have to carry your dog across the whole city on your own back to realise: no one else is going to live your life for you.
