З життя
«Спроси меня ещё: заберёшь ли ты меня?» — с горечью сказала мать. Но ответ мне известен уже давно…
«Ты меня к себе не заберёшь?» — спросила мать с обидой. Но я уже знала ответ…
Меня зовут Анастасия. Мне тридцать восемь, и я замужем за Дмитрием уже пятнадцать лет. У нас с ним сын, уютная квартира в Москве и, казалось бы, всё для счастья. Но есть одна незаживающая рана — моя мать. Вернее, её война с Димой, которая длится больше десяти лет.
Дима приехал в столицу из маленького городка в Сибири. Тогда он мечтал поступить в университет, но с первого раза не прошёл и устроился сантехником, чтобы хоть как-то сводить концы с концами. Жил в общаге, трудился, не ныл. Потом всё же поступил. Работу не бросил — стал настоящим профессионалом, клиенты его хвалили. В университете мы и познакомились. Я училась на курс старше, но между нами сразу пробежала искра.
Когда я получила диплом, мы решили пожениться. Но мама была категорически против.
«Сантехник? Ты с ума сошла! Провинциал без жилья, без будущего!» — кричала она.
Я уговорила её пустить нас пожить в её квартире — временно, пока Дима не закончит учёбу. Мама согласилась скрепя сердце, с каменным лицом. С первого дня она его не приняла, сколько бы он ни старался. За первые дни он починил в квартире всё: текущий кран, сломанную плиту, даже балкон, который не открывался годами. В ответ — ледяное молчание и колкости.
«Я тебя, парень, прописывать не собираюсь!» — однажды выпалила она. Дима лишь спокойно ответил: «Я и не прошу».
Он терпел. День за днём. Но я видела, как это его съедает. А потом я забеременела… И случилось то, чего мы боялись.
«Ты рехнулась! Рожать от этого неудачника?! Я его в своём доме терпеть не могу!» — завопила мать.
Дима услышал. Без слов собрал вещи. Подошёл ко мне и сказал:
«Или ты со мной. Или я один. Но под одной крышей с твоей матерью я больше не останусь».
Я ушла. Мы переехали в его крохотную комнату в общаге. Родился сын. Было трудно. Но я ни о чём не жалела. Дима работал, учился, подрабатывал. Через два года мы купили свою первую однушку. Потом — двушку. Сейчас живём в просторной трёшке. Дима — ведущий инженер на крупном предприятии, получает хорошие деньги. И до сих пор берёт подработки — руки у него золотые, клиенты в очередь становятся.
Но с того дня, как мы ушли, Дима ни разу не переступил порог маминой квартиры. Не пришёл ни на один праздник, даже случайно не встретился. Он чётко сказал:
«Я не хочу её видеть. Помогу деньгами, оплачу что нужно. Но ничего больше. Ни общения, ни визитов».
Мама долго не понимала. Да и сейчас, спустя годы, продолжает обижаться:
«Ты так и будешь плясать под дудку мужа? А если я заболею? Если сама не смогу? Ты тоже меня бросишь?»
Я вернулась домой и тихо спросила Димку:
«А если правда… ей станет тяжело одной?»
Он не раздумывал:
«Наняли бы сиделку. Ты бы навещала. Всё было бы достойно, но без неё в нашей жизни. Мой предел — твой порог».
Я задумалась. И поняла — он прав. Он не обязан прощать того, кто его унижал. Не обязан чинить ей краны, если когда-то она высмеивала его за работу сантехника. Он вырос. Он изменился. А она — нет.
Недавно она опять звонила. Кричала, что в ванной потоп, а я даже не попросила Димку приехать.
«Мам, — спокойно ответила я, — Дима перевёл тебе пять тысяч рублей. Вызови любого мастера».
Она бросила трубку. Обиделась. Но мне не жаль.
Иногда я думаю, что тот вечер, когда я ушла с Димой в общагу, стал самым важным выбором в моей жизни. Я выбрала семью. Выбрала человека, который не предал. Который вытянул нас с сыном, построил всё с нуля и не дал сломать себя. И я больше никому не позволю его ломать.
Пусть мама обижается. У неё был шанс. Но она им не воспользовалась.
After My Parents’ Divorce, They Cast Me Out: How I Was Forced to Leave Home, Lost My Family, and Began a New Life—Until a Twist of Fate Brought Us All Back Together
I pleaded, yet my mother stood firm. She hurriedly tossed my belongings into a rucksack, handed me a bit of...
Don’t Go, Mum: A Family Story of Love, Judgement, and Redemption
Dont Go, Mum. A Family Story As the old saying goes: you cant judge a book by its cover. But...
She Was Never Truly Alone: A Simple Tale of Grandma Violet, Her Loyal Dog George, and Felix the Cat with a Financial Past
She Wasnt Alone. A Simple Tale It was a late winter morning, and the sky over London barely began to...
After Turning Seventy, She Was Forgotten—Not Even Her Son or Daughter Remembered Her Birthday, But When Her Son Betrayed Her and Sold Her Home, an Unexpected Reunion with Her Estranged Daughter Changed Everything
After turning seventy, she found herself unwanted by anyone not even her own son or daughter remembered her birthday. Margaret...
I Will Always Be With You, Mum: A Heartfelt Story You Can Believe Grandma Valerie couldn’t wait for evening to come. Her neighbour Natalie, a single woman approaching fifty, had just confided something so astonishing that Valerie’s head was spinning. To prove her point, Natalie had even invited her round later to show her something remarkable. The story began quite simply. That morning, Natalie had dropped by as she was on her way to the shop: “Is there anything you need, Valerie? I’m popping to the corner shop to pick up bits for a pie and a few other things.” Valerie smiled. “You’ve always been so good and caring, Natalie. I remember you as a little girl. It’s a shame things haven’t worked out for you—but you never seem sad or complain, not like some.” Natalie laughed. “What’s there to complain about? I do have a man I love, it’s just we can’t be together for now. Would you like to hear the reason? I’ve never told anyone else, but I want to tell you. Well, partly because you probably wouldn’t be believed if you repeated it!” She grinned. “Just let me know if you need anything from the shop. I’ll pop in on my way back, and over a cup of tea, I’ll tell you all about my life. Maybe then you’ll be happy for me and stop worrying.” Valerie didn’t really need anything, but asked Natalie to fetch a loaf of bread and some sweets for tea, her curiosity well and truly piqued. Later, as they sat together over tea and cake, Natalie began: “Valerie, you remember that thing that happened to me twenty years ago? I was nearly thirty. Met a bloke—nice enough, so I thought I’d marry him even if I didn’t love him. At least I’d have a family. He moved in and I got pregnant. When the baby came, a little girl, she lived just two days and passed away. I thought I’d go mad with grief. My husband and I split up soon after. A couple of months later, once I’d stopped crying, something happened. It’s hard to explain, Valerie. I’d got everything ready for my daughter—the cot, bedding, toys, the lot. They say it’s bad luck to buy these things early, but I didn’t believe that. Then one night I was woken by the sound of a baby crying. I thought I was imagining it, but the crying came again. I went to the cot—and there she was. My little girl. I picked her up, my heart nearly bursting with happiness. She looked up at me and then drifted peacefully to sleep. And from then on, almost every night, she would come to me. I even bought formula and a bottle, but she hardly ever fed—just smiled, closed her eyes and slept in my arms. Is that even possible?” Valerie leaned forward, utterly enthralled. “I know it sounds mad, but it’s true,” Natalie insisted. “It just went on—we got used to those nightly visits. I knew my little girl was living in another world, with her own mum and dad, but she never forgot me. She would visit, and one night she said to me: ‘I will always be with you, Mum. We are bound by an invisible thread, and nothing can ever break it.’ Sometimes I wonder if it’s a dream, but she even brings me gifts from her world. They don’t last long here though—they fade away like snow in spring.” That evening, Valerie finally visited Natalie’s flat. No one else was home—just the two of them. Suddenly, a gentle light shimmered in the air and a sweet young woman appeared: “Hello, Mummy! I’ve had such a good day, I want to share it with you. And here’s a present for you.” She placed a small bouquet on the table. Turning to see Valerie, she smiled again. “Oh, hello! Mum said you wanted to meet me. I’m Marianne.” After chatting a while, Marianne faded away like morning mist. Valerie sat silent, absolutely stunned. “Well, I never… that really happens!” she whispered. “Your daughter’s a beauty, Natalie, just like you. I’m so happy for you. You really are a lucky woman—maybe luckier than anyone I know. I would never have believed it if I hadn’t seen it myself. Thank you for opening my eyes. The world is so much bigger than I thought; life goes on everywhere. I’m not afraid anymore.” The flowers on the table became paler and then vanished altogether. But Natalie smiled, full of hope. Tomorrow would be a wonderful new day. She was going to meet Arkady, the man she loved and who loved her back—she just knew it. And someday soon, she’d introduce him to the two people she loved most in the world: Marianne and Arkady.
Ill always be with you, Mum. A story you might believe Granny Margaret waited for evening with restless curiosity. Her...
The Friend I Sold: Grandpa’s Tale of Loyal Companionship, Hard Times, and a Hard Lesson Learned
A Sold Friend. Granddads Story And he understood me! It wasn’t fun, and I realised it was a foolish idea....
The Closest of Kin: A Heartwarming Family Story of Grandparents Anna and Paul, Their Three Wonderful Grandchildren, Home-Baked Treats, Maths Lessons, and the Unbreakable Bonds That Sustain Them Through Joys and Sorrows
Family Ties. A Story Funny, how life turns out. It could have all been so different. The neighbour, Mrs. Dawson,...
I Did a DNA Test and Instantly Regretted It I Had to Marry My Girlfriend After Finding Out She Was Pregnant. After Our Wedding, We Moved in With My Parents Because We Couldn’t Afford Our Own Place. Time Went By and I Became the Dad of a Wonderful Little Boy. Soon After, We Decided to Get a Mortgage and Start Our Own Family Home. After a While, My Wife Told Me She Was Pregnant Again, and That’s How Our Princess Anna Was Born. The Kids Grew Up Quickly, and Each Year I Noticed They Didn’t Look Like Me at All—not even a little. In Fact, Neither My Son nor My Daughter Looked Like Their Mum Either. Both Were Ginger with Freckles—Where Did That Come From in Our Family? The Thought Crossed My Mind to Take a Paternity Test. Maybe It Wasn’t the Brightest Idea, But I Needed to Be Sure the Kids Were Mine. I Took the Test. I Had to Wait Two Weeks for the Results. As Soon As They Called, I Rushed to the Lab. Thank God—It Turned Out I Was Their Dad. I Went Home and Hid the Documents So My Wife Wouldn’t Find Them. But Why Didn’t I Just Throw Them Away? I Paid for That Mistake. Just a Few Days Later, My Wife Threw Those Papers in My Face. She Caused Such an Uproar the Whole House Trembled. I Understand Why, But Surely There Was a More Peaceful Way to Handle It. She Couldn’t Forgive Me, and Now I’m Alone. Five Years Have Passed Since That Day, and She Still Won’t Let Me See the Kids. That’s How Simple Curiosity Stole the Most Precious Thing I Had—My Family. I Hope One Day She Can Forgive Me…
I remember those days as if they happened in another life. Back then, when I learned my sweetheart was expecting,...