З життя
Запросила колишню невістку жити зі мною — тепер у мене лише онук та донька. Син для мене більше не існує
Я запросила колишню невістку переїхати до мене — тепер у мене лише онук і донька. Сина більше немає.
Я сама виростила хлопця. Його батько покинув нас, коли Михасю ледве виповнилося три роки — сказав, що втомився від поботу, від відповідальності, від сім’ї. Ніби то я, дівчина на три роки молодша, мусила знати краще, що таке доросле життя. Він пішов, гримнувши дверима, а я лишилася сама з дитиною, з боргами, з безсонними ночами та двома роботами. З того часу я не чекала допомоги ні від кого.
Сину я віддала всю себе. Михась виріс розумним, добрим, чутливим. Вклала в нього все — турботу, сили, здоров’я, молодість. Коли він закохався в Оксану, йому був лиш 23, їй — 21. Перше кохання, сяючі очі, дзвінкий сміх. Він підробляв, збирав на перстень, сам зробив пропозицію. Я не вагалася — він був готовим стати чоловіком. Оксана здавалася мені тендітною, тихою, але я відчула: з неї вийде гарна дружина, тож прийняла її, як рідну.
Вони зіграли скромне весілля, зняли хатинку, і я відпустила їх зі спокійним серцем — нехай будують своє щастя. Через рік народився Данилко — мій онук, моя гордість. Богатир, 4,3 кг. Я закохалася в нього з першого погляду. Михась знайшов кращу роботу, все йшло, як по маслу. А потім… потім грянув грім серед чистого неба — розлучення.
Без криків, без сцен, без розмов. Просто Михась сказав: «Я йду». У нього була інша. Співробітниця, яка вже чекала від нього дитину. Це була зрада. Я не знаходила слів, щоб його виправдати. Оксана з Данилком повернулася до батьків, а мій син пішов жити до нової жінки. Він намагався мене переконати, що так буває, що любов помирає. Та я бачила: він повторив шлях свого батька.
Він запрошував мене в гості, хотів, щоб я познайомилася з новою обраницею. Я відмовилася. Ні. Це не моя родина. Моя родина — Оксана та Данилко. Я продовжувала навідувати колишню невістку. Ми зблизилися, як мати й донька. Приїжджала до них, допомагала, гуляла з онуком, приносила продукти. Я бачила, як важко Оксані — тісна кімната, буркотливі батьки, вічна втома. Одного разу я сказала: «Переїжджай до мене».
Я жила сама у трикімнатній хаті. Місця вистачить усім. Я ще працювала, і мені бракувало тепла, живого спілкування. Оксана спочатку зніяковіла, але вже до вечора стояла на порозі. З речами. З опухлими від сліз очима.
— Дякую вам, — прошепотіла вона, — навіть не знаю, як вас подякувати…
Відтоді ми живемо втрьох. Оксана веде господарство, я працюю, а по вечорах разом граємося з Данилком, дивимося фільми, обговорюємо рецепти й просто сміємося. Я знову відчуваю себе потрібною. Мені не требати уМинули роки, але в нашому домі, як і раніше, чути дитячий сміх Данилка та теплі розмови з Оксаною — і в цьому моя справжня радість.
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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.
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