З життя
Ми не бідні, купили сину квартиру і авто, але він не підтримує з нами зв’язок.
З чоловіком ми не належимо до бідних людей, купили квартиру і автомобіль для сина, проте він не підтримує з нами зв’язок. Внука ми вперше побачили, коли йому було 3 роки. Це неприємна ситуація, особливо тому, що наша сваха може бачити його, коли забажає.
Коли мій син одружився, я була дуже щаслива. Я хотіла, щоб його дружина стала частиною нашої родини. Я раділа, що з цього моменту матиму ще й доньку, але виявилося, що невістка забрала мого сина. Я багато разів чула історії про те, як діти змінюються під впливом інших, але ніколи не думала, що це станеться в моїй родині.
Що стосується нас, ми є звичайною родиною, мій чоловік і я – пенсіонери-інженери. Ми вкладали все, що мали, в нашого сина. Він закінчив школу з відмінними результатами, точні науки були для нього дуже легкими. Інтелектуально розвинений, спортивний, привабливий. Він завершив медичний університет. Ми бажали йому тільки найкращого, влаштували його на роботу у місцеву лікарню та Медичну академію.
У свої двадцять сім років він вже мав усе: солідну освіту, добре оплачувану роботу, а також нашу підтримку і захоплення. Ніяких проблем з ним не було. Щодо його обраниць, вони були різними, але пізніше син дійсно закохався. Здавалося, що дівчина теж, але чомусь вона вийшла заміж за іншого. Син дуже переймався, але, на щастя, недовго. Пізніше він зустрів іншу жінку, з нею теж не склалося. Це все було дуже важким для нього, він цим дуже переймався. Ми з чоловіком його підбадьорювали, але що це давало, кожен має впоратися зі своїми проблемами самостійно… Подальші зустрічі з дівчатами нарешті привели його до єдиної.
Вона повідомила, що чекає дитину. Вони відразу почали жити разом. Ми з чоловіком раділи за них, проте виявилося, даремно. Дівчина була дуже хитра, намагалася позбутися нас із життя сина. В одну мить він змінився на того, хто не хоче бачити своїх батьків. Робив лише те, що вона йому наказувала. У мене було відчуття, що він нас ненавидить.
Ми вперше побачилися, коли нашому онукові було 3 роки. Потім знову тиша. Її мати постійно була з ними. Син забув про все, що ми для нього зробили. Моє серце розривається від сліз. На думку наших друзів, вона повністю взяла над ним контроль.
Чи повинні такі речі відбуватися у ХХІ столітті? Не можу повірити, яким егоїстичним став мій син. Він дуже змінився, і з кожним днем все більше віддаляється від нас. Я не знаю, що робити, чоловік теж безсилий. Ми не хочемо повністю втратити єдину дитину.
A Sold Friend: Grandad’s Tale And He Understood Me! It Was No Fun – I Realized What a Foolish Idea It Was. I Sold Him. He Thought It Was a Game, Until He Realized I’d Truly Sold Him. Times, After All, Are Different for Everyone. For Some, All-Inclusive Isn’t All That Generous, While Others Just Dream of Fresh Bread and Sausage. That’s how we lived – each in our own way, with all sorts of ups and downs. I was little back then. My uncle – Uncle George – gave me a shepherd puppy, and I was over the moon. The pup bonded with me, understood me at a glance, looked into my eyes and waited, waited for my signal. “Lie down,” I would say after a pause, and he would lie, gazing up at me loyally as though ready to die for me. “Serve,” I commanded, and the puppy would clamber up on chubby legs and freeze, swallowing anxiously, waiting for a reward – a tasty treat. But I had nothing to spoil him with. We were barely managing ourselves. Times were tough. My uncle, Uncle George, my mum’s brother who had given me the puppy, once said to me: “Don’t be upset, lad. Look how loyal he is! Sell him, then call for him, and he’ll run back to you. No one will see. You’ll have some money for a treat for you and your mum, and for him too. Trust me, I’m telling you something useful.” The idea sounded good to me. I didn’t realize then how wrong it was – an adult suggested it, and besides, it’d just be a joke, and I could get a treat. I whispered into Loyal’s warm, furry ear that I’d give him away, then call him back, so he should come to me and escape from strangers. And he understood me! He barked, as if to agree. The next day, I put on his lead and walked him to the station. Everyone sold things there – flowers, cucumbers, apples. The crowd poured off the train, and people began buying, haggling. I stepped forward a little, pulling my dog closer. But no one approached. Almost everyone had gone when a man with a stern face came over. “You there, lad, waiting for someone, or maybe you want to sell your dog? Good, strong pup – I’ll take him,” and he pressed some money into my palm. I handed him the lead. Loyal looked around and sneezed happily. “Go on, Loyal, go with him, my friend,” I whispered, “I’ll call you, come to me.” And he went off with the man. Hiding, I watched where they went. That evening, I brought home bread, sausage, and sweets. Mum asked sternly: “Did you steal this from someone?” “No, Mum, I helped carry some things at the station, and they paid me.” “Well done, son. Now eat and let’s go to bed – I’m exhausted.” She didn’t even ask about Loyal; she didn’t care. Uncle George came by in the morning. I was getting ready for school, but all I wanted was to go call for Loyal. “So,” he chuckled, “sold your friend?” and ruffled my hair. I pulled away, refusing to answer. I hadn’t slept all night, and couldn’t eat my bread and sausage for the lump in my throat. It wasn’t fun – I realized what a stupid idea it had been. No wonder Mum never liked Uncle George. “He’s daft, don’t listen to him,” she’d always say. I grabbed my schoolbag and dashed from the house. It was three blocks to that man’s house, and I ran the whole way. Loyal sat behind a tall fence, tied up with a thick rope. I called him, but he looked at me sadly, head on his paws, tail wagging, trying to bark though his voice broke. I’d sold him. He thought it was a game, but then realized I had truly sold him. The owner came out, scolded Loyal, and he tucked in his tail. I knew then it was hopeless. That evening I worked at the station carrying bags. They paid little, but it was enough. Scared, I went to the gate and knocked. The man opened the door. “Oh, it’s you again. What do you want?” “Sir, I changed my mind,” I stammered, handing him the money he’d given me for Loyal. He squinted at me, took the money, and untied Loyal. “Here, lad. Take him. He’s been pining, not cut out for a guard dog – but mind, he may never forgive you.” Loyal looked at me mournfully. Our game had become a trial for us both. Then he walked over, licked my hand and pressed his nose into my stomach. Years have passed since then, but I know now: you never sell a friend, not even as a joke. And Mum was so glad: “I was exhausted yesterday, then remembered – where’s our dog? I’m used to that boy, he’s part of the family, our Loyal!” After that, Uncle George hardly ever visited. We didn’t find his jokes funny anymore.
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