At the end of May, my daughter Liliya informed me that she, along with the children, would join her husband Pavlo, who had been living and working abroad for quite some time. They needed to repay a loan on a car as soon as possible.
While my daughter lived in her homeland, I supported her in every way I could. I often took the children to my place, giving her some time for herself. When my daughter announced the departure, I supported her decision since a family should live together, and the children missed their father.
“Mom, I have only one request for you. Can you please come to us, feed the rabbit, and water my flowers?” “Of course, dear. No problem. Go peacefully, and don’t worry about anything.” I saw my loved ones off, and the next morning, I headed to their home.
However, when I stepped over the threshold, my heart nearly stopped. The chaos before my eyes defied description. All items were scattered on the floor, traces were everywhere, even on the walls. “I need to tidy up this place,” I thought, and the next day, I returned with a mop, scrubbers, and cleaning supplies. I managed to sort everything out in a few days. Watered the flowers, fed their rabbit, and then headed home.
The children returned after three weeks, and I met them at the airport. We went home together. On the way, I anticipated my daughter’s joy at seeing order at home. However, as soon as we entered, my daughter turned around and started yelling at me, “Mom, what have you done! I only asked you to water the flowers!”
My son-in-law joined in, saying that now it’s uncomfortable for them here. They returned to what felt like a stranger’s apartment. I couldn’t bear it. I turned around and left, slamming the door. Walking down the street, I couldn’t hold back the tears. How ungrateful they are. I won’t communicate with them anymore until they all come to me together and apologize for their words.