“Mom, how could you do that? I am your son, and these are your grandchildren,” my son Anton protested. “I had to do it, my dear.
I had to do it,” I replied firmly, ignoring his frustration. As much as I loved him and my grandchildren, I couldn’t give in to his request.
I had hoped that my son would support me in my old age, but those hopes proved in vain. Maybe it was a blessing that my husband didn’t live to see that day.
Anton was an ordinary boy, struggling sometimes, but he studied, got a degree and got a good job. His life took a new turn when he met Anya;
They were so enchanted with each other that they got married two months after meeting. Despite my concerns about Anya, I respected my son’s choice.
For their wedding, I gave them my two-bedroom apartment and moved into a smaller one-bedroom apartment.
Our relationship was warm until the birth of their son. After giving birth, Anya’s behavior changed dramatically: she constantly argued with Anton and forbade me to see my grandson.
Despite my son’s obvious displeasure, I refrained from interfering in their family affairs. However, my patience reached its limits when Anton asked me to sell my apartment to buy a bigger one for his growing family.
I declined, reminding him of the years my husband and I had saved for this apartment. “My son, if you want the best in yourself, work for it!
You enjoyed a comfortable life but neglected your responsibilities, you didn’t even maintain the house I gave you. I will not sell my apartment!
His reaction was explosive, and I realized that I had become his adversary, risking severing ties with my grandchildren. On the other hand, I was afraid and saddened that Anton, a grown man with his own family, still depended on me to solve his problems.
