It seemed to me that my mother-in-law was turning her son against me, emphasizing my ineptitude and inability to cope with life in comparison with her. And I tried. I tried to be better. It's more delicious to cook. It is more economical to run a household. Cleaner. To be gentle and caring, even if you were tired. Finally, five years after the wedding, I insisted on my husband and I moving from Moscow to Vladivostok, where he was offered a job. I wanted to be as far away from my mother-in-law as possible so that she would not have the opportunity to interfere in our lives. And we left. Years later, remembering that time, I realized that my mother-in-law practically did not interfere.
She was just counting on good attitude from my son's side. It was deservedly counted. After all, she raised him and educated him at the institute, despite a lot of difficulties and a constant lack of money. Despite chronic fatigue from hard work as a surgical nurse and a poorly arranged life.
My husband's father died of cancer when his son was only ten years old. Grandparents lived far away - in neighboring villages of the Kirov region. The mother-in-law and her son visited them in the summer for a couple of weeks and in the winter for New Year Sometimes. They did not come to Moscow for fear of leaving their gardens and animals unattended. And it was not easy for them to travel simply due to their age and health, especially since the capital with its bustle tired them. In the villages it was more familiar and calmer - under the supervision of children and grandchildren, who did not betray their homeland, like some, did not leave to explore the cities. Subsequently, contact with them was completely lost. My mother-in-law often lamented this and added that her son and I, her daughter-in-law, were the only people close to her. This both touched me and alarmed me at the same time.
I almost physically felt the burden of responsibility that my mother-in-law placed on us without asking our desire to bear this burden. Although the burden was actually small. All that was required was to inquire about her well-being and do what the mother-in-law herself could not do. Bring or move something heavy. Fix a leaky faucet or replace a sparking electrical outlet. Whitewash the ceiling and put up wallpaper after the upstairs neighbors flooded it. And just sit next to me and listen to the sore point. No one required daily participation. But I perceived even my husband’s weekly visits to my mother almost as a betrayal towards myself. After all, I made plans for the weekend, dreamed of trips to nature and cultural events like visiting museums and theaters, invited friends to visit and accepted invitations myself, and I just wanted to go shopping with my husband so that he could look at my new clothes and appreciate them with his own eyes. . And first of all, he was eager to see his mother and only then, if there was time left, did he pay attention to me. I was sulking and offended. I took his every word about my mother with hostility. I used my own mother as an example, who managed perfectly well without our constant care.
At that time, my mother already had her fourth husband. She fluttered like a butterfly in her early forties. Attended aerobics and courses in English to keep up with modern trends. As soon as the borders opened, I rushed to Europe, and from there to America. I later wrote from Chicago that I had found true happiness in the person of some Bob. I attached a photograph of him to the letter. I looked for a long time black face with a shiny, ebony-like bald head, and couldn’t understand what his mother saw in him. I categorically refused to recognize this person as my new stepfather. And my mother disappeared completely. This, however, did not upset me. I focused on my own family. She built a nest and was preparing to become a mother herself. Everything was going great, only my mother-in-law annoyingly interfered with our idyll. No, no, yes, she expressed her opinion on how to live. She judged my mother. She didn’t leave us alone for a week. She even tried to go on vacation to the sea with us, which I resolutely stopped by throwing my husband into hysterics with breaking dishes.
Now I am ashamed to remember how disgustingly I behaved. How it was dripping into my husband’s brain that his mother was demanding the impossible. What niggles at me. Which, apparently, doesn’t love me and wants to destroy our marriage.
Are you serious? - he was surprised. - This is the other end of the country. Even my mother and I can rarely talk on the phone due to the time difference. And to meet... it’s generally unknown when it will happen.
But every meeting will be a real joy, and not a duty,” I insisted.
My mother-in-law cried when we told her about our decision to move. She expressed the hope that we would not be gone forever. And if we are delayed, we will take her with us, because she has nothing to do in Moscow without us. I didn’t object out loud, but I thought to myself that it was time for her to make friends or find a man so she wouldn’t get so attached to us. There's my mother, she lives without me. Why can't this one? Why is he clinging to us? Later, I did everything that depended on me so that she would not come to us often and would not stay for a long time. She apparently felt my attitude and stopped communicating with me completely after her son - my husband - died in a car accident. She herself did not survive him much. Two years later she died due to a detached blood clot.
I was barely forty-three years old when I was left completely alone with my twelve-year-old son. That's when it started to dawn on me how cruel and selfish I used to be. But I was able to fully understand my disgusting behavior later, when my son grew up and got married.
I didn’t like his chosen one from the first meeting. She behaved arrogantly towards me. She immediately made it clear that she did not need my advice. And in general he expects to live separately and see each other rarely. Coming from a wealthy family, she was embarrassed by my simple appearance. I considered my borscht and cutlets a relic of the past. I fed myself and taught my son to vegetable soups and steamed fish. I monitored calories and waist size. She drove my son to the gym, and when he visited me, she made sure that he didn’t try unhealthy food again, so that he didn’t fall under my dangerous influence.
“I don’t ask you to have dinner with me every night or just sit next to me,” I was indignant. - But is it possible to simply help move furniture or fix a broken washing machine?
Should I give you the technician's phone number? - the daughter-in-law curled her lips. -Or will you find it yourself in the reference book?
I watched as my son cared about her well-being. He worked six days a week, ten or even twelve hours. She didn’t get a job, nurturing the image of a social diva. Slow mornings, strict instructions to the housekeeper, spas and shops, fitness centers and cafes with girlfriends, dinner delivered from a restaurant - this is her schedule and range of interests. She was in no hurry to give birth, but when her friends became pregnant one after another, she succumbed to the general mood.
I was happy to myself. I thought that now I would finally be useful as a nanny, if they didn’t want to see me in any other way. However, my daughter-in-law invited a professional teacher and asked me not to interfere.
“Love won’t hurt,” I told her.
“First of all, you need to love yourself,” she answered me instructively.
Everything inside me sank with resentment. I tried to express my pain to my son.
Mom, don’t be dramatic,” he waved me off tiredly. - My wife does everything right.
She convinced him that paid services better than your own grandmother. Grandma may get sick, and then all plans will be disrupted. And the teacher is obliged by contract to find a worthy replacement if something unexpected happens to her. It is difficult to demand from a grandmother the exact fulfillment of parental wishes. You won’t speak strictly to her in front of the child, it’s not pedagogical, but you don’t have to stand on ceremony with the invited governess. Grandma will have to be taken into account, and the servants can be asked to leave at any time and not loom before their eyes.
At least on a day off I can take a walk with my grandson? - I begged.
On the weekend, we go for a walk ourselves,” the daughter-in-law immediately got into the conversation. - On weekdays, we don’t get to spend time together as a family.
This will be given to you in the future,” I couldn’t restrain myself. - You will feel on your own skin what it is like when you are separated from your son and grandson.
How dare you curse?! - the daughter-in-law squealed. - Old hag!
Did you hear that?! - I turned to my son, dumbfounded.
Calm down, girls,” he said conciliatoryly. - Please!
At the same time, his face expressed wild fatigue. And only for his sake I did not stir up a scandal. I was also afraid that my daughter-in-law would completely cut me out of their lives, declaring me a danger to society. And so she tried not to leave me alone with my grandson. Even when I became pregnant for the second time and gave birth to a girl.
With the advent of her third child, the daughter-in-law began to behave like a heroic mother. And more and more often she sarcastically said to me that it was my own fault: I gave birth to only one son. If I had more children, there would not be such a problem as lack of attention. And I wouldn’t actively seek attention myself. In my youth, I would have suffered with upbringing, and then I would not be drawn to my grandchildren, I would live my life calmly. I listened to her and could barely contain myself. On the one hand, I wished her well-being, as the wife of my son and the mother of my grandchildren. On the other hand, it promised to experience the same heartache, which I experienced myself. And then I caught myself remembering how unfair I was towards my own mother-in-law. I knew what I was punished for. And one could forgive the unreasonable daughter-in-law. But I did not and still do not have the strength or wisdom to do this. Even now, when my son repeated the fate of his grandfather and father and died early.
For me, his death from a heart attack was a terrible tragedy. The daughter-in-law also cried and lamented. She probably truly loved him after all. However, this did not stop her from soon getting married a second time.
“Only for the sake of the children,” she explained to me before leaving.
She left with her children for Australia. After all, her new husband I emigrated there ten years ago. Of course, she didn’t invite me along. However, her husband now often calls me and inquires about my affairs. I don’t know if my daughter-in-law knows, but he has actually been making plans for a long time for me to move in with them, because he believes that grandmothers should be close to their grandchildren. This touches me and makes me believe that I have already redeemed myself and everything can still be good for me.
I got married while I was pregnant. My husband didn't know about my situation. I wanted to tell him, but didn’t dare.
The mother-in-law immediately disliked her grandson. She seemed to feel that Senya had nothing to do with their family. She assured my husband that Senya was not his son, but my husband did not listen to his mother’s opinion. She didn’t accept me right away, so there was nothing surprising in her words.
I know I should have told my husband the truth right away. But I was afraid. I have no relatives, no home of my own. The guy, the father of the child, left me before I even found out about the pregnancy. What would we live on? As if I were alone with a child in my arms, on rented apartment? So I responded favorably to Dmitry, who had long been in love with me.
Sofya Alekseevna, seeing me for the first time, grimaced. She looked me up and down and said contemptuously to Dima, nodding in my direction:
- What, there was no one better?
Her hostility was visible a kilometer away. My husband was on my side, so I wasn’t particularly worried about my mother-in-law’s attitude towards me.
Fathers-in-law are quite wealthy people. The husband works for his father. My husband and I lived in our in-laws’ apartment with our in-laws’ money. But separately from them.
Two years ago I gave birth to my second son, from my husband. And Sofya Alekseevna immediately sensed her own blood. Gifts were given only youngest child, educational activities and entertainment - also only for the youngest. The mother-in-law could take her beloved grandson to live with her for a few days. The eldest son, looking at this division, began to behave disgracefully.
Recently, our whole family visited our in-laws. As usual, all attention was paid to the youngest. The eldest, so that at least someone would look at him, found a lighter on his mother-in-law’s balcony and set fire to the pieces of paper on her dressing table.
We all ran to the source of the smoke. The father-in-law threw a blanket on the table, there was no fire. But there was a huge burn mark left on the dressing table.
My mother-in-law billed my husband and I for the table. By my standards - an astronomical amount of 60 thousand rubles. I left with a scandal - is it my son’s fault that lighters are kept so accessible from children at his mother-in-law’s house? And in general, if I had paid attention to both grandchildren, none of this would have happened.
The husband agreed to pay. I thought he would repay the debt with money. But Sofya Alekseevna suggested replacing the 60 thousand debt with two paternity tests - for both grandchildren. My husband decided to save money - in our city one test costs 9,900.
I thought my husband would understand. He raised his eldest son for almost 7 years, and he became attached to the boy. But no. The husband, in the form of an ultimatum, demanded that someone else's child not be in his house. Well, how can a child whose husband got up at night be a stranger? Whom did you play ball with, who did you worry about when you were sick?
I refused. And what kind of mother can give away one of her children just because dad changed his mind about being a dad? Then the husband packed his things and left, saying that he would go to court with an application for divorce, ordering alimony for the younger son and removing paternity from him for the eldest.
With my husband leaving, I even breathed a little more freely. There are fewer household chores and more time for the children. The surprise was the visit of Sofia Alekseevna. She walked in as if to her own home, opening the door with her key. I immediately began to kick her out, asking, with tears in my eyes:
— Did you achieve what you wanted? Was I bad wife To your son? Get out, you have nothing to do here!
In response, she laughed. She told me that I was the one to get out of her apartment.
- But Dima left the apartment to me! - I was indignant.
- Now, if Dima had his own home, he could dispose of it at his own discretion. You won't live in my apartment! You have a week!
She left. And I sit and roar. It's even worse than when I got pregnant the first time. Then I could have an abortion and move on with my life. Or give birth and understand one child - I had work then. And now I need somewhere to hide with two children. I don’t have a job, my husband took the jewelry that I could sell when he left.
I don’t understand these people - how can children be driven out onto the streets because of a small mistake I made in the past? What are they to blame for?
My husband also sang differently, I’m sure - at the suggestion of his mother. Now Dima wants to take my youngest son away from me and his mother will raise my child!
I don't know what to do or what to do. A friend advised to invite Dima to a conversation, during the conversation to loudly shout several times “Dima, don’t!” so that the neighbors would hear and could go as witnesses.
And, as soon as he leaves, give yourself bruises and write a statement against him. Like, he won’t sue the child, and he can demand money from the mother-in-law so that I can withdraw the application. I'll probably do that.
From the author. The girl who told me about her problems did not evoke a drop of sympathy. I didn’t want to publish this text - I’m disgusted myself. But I felt very sorry for the people who met on this girl’s life path, and I tried to contact Sofia Alekseevna to warn her family about possible problems with the heroine of this story.
Unfortunately, Sofya Alekseevna refused to talk to me. Perhaps she will read this article, recognize her daughter-in-law and save her son from problems.
The woman who told me this story was undergoing treatment with me at the district hospital. We, the four residents of the ward, were amazed by what we heard. I’ll tell this story as I heard it, in the first person. I won’t give names, surnames and addresses, I’m just afraid. But do not doubt the authenticity of this story.
“My husband and I were born and raised on the same street. I grew up a good girl: modest, hardworking. She graduated from school with a gold medal and entered college. And from that day on, I saw my future relatives almost every day. I didn’t get married until I was 30, but soon the wedding took place.
When my son was one year old, my mother-in-law was hospitalized. That same day, I ran to her with words of sympathy and consolation. She rushed to me with tears, began to hug me with unfeminine strength, alternately squeezing my arms, neck, back, lower back with her fists, sobbing and wailing.
The next morning I couldn't get out of bed. I was short of air, pain permeated all my joints, and the temperature was in the low forties. Doctors could not alleviate my condition. Moreover, based on the test results, they could not make the correct diagnosis. The mother-in-law, on the contrary, recovered and returned home.
My strength was running out when a close friend advised me to go to a female healer I knew, fortunately she lived nearby, in our region. A rather young woman met me, examined me, and gave me tea. Then she said:
"Do not worry everything will be fine. You came to me on time. If you do as I say, we will defeat all enemies with you. When you get home, take your pillow and shake everything out of it. Don’t go to bed before 12 o’clock, because at this time an important event will happen for you. Drink twice a day herbal infusion which I will give you. Now go with God!”
At home, I immediately started revising my pillow. In addition to fluff, it contained some pebbles and a black cross, knitted and twisted from ordinary black threads. A thousand knots of this craft should have brought me to the grave. Lost in thought, I fell asleep in front of the TV on.
Suddenly, at some point, she jumped up, remembering the healer’s order. The clock said twelve, and the image of the Archangel Michael in an ancient carved frame froze on the TV screen. Then everything disappeared, and I only woke up in the morning. My mother and husband were busy around me.
The clever healer did not deceive - the disease subsided. Mom rejoiced and prayed for this kind woman after hearing my detailed story.
As for the icon, my mother remembered that her father, my grandfather Mikhail, blessed it with the same face, in the same frame. The search for this icon was crowned with success. My mother and I found her in an old house, from which the communists had once kicked her parents out as the wealthiest villagers. At first it housed the village council, then it was given away large family, but thank God, people didn’t take everything out of the attic. Our icon lay dirty and dusty in the far corner, unharmed. Now Archangel Michael is standing in my house.
My mother-in-law died, but she passed on her “gift” to her own niece - an unprepossessing, crooked woman, who, having received the “will”, was completely transformed beyond recognition. Now she is a portly, gloomy person, arrogant, malicious, with a withering gaze of black eyes.”
Vitalik was already working at one of the Moscow ambulance stations when Olesya came to them. The young people liked each other and, after some time, they got married. The couple turned out to be really beautiful: both of the Nordic type - fair-haired, blue-eyed. Vitalik has a strong build and stocky build. Olesya is a fragile girl with a good figure and a pretty face.
Problems with his mother began even before the wedding, but the guys did not lose heart - they say, he will get to know each other, get to know him better, and will be glad to have such a daughter-in-law. But it was not there.
The young paramedics had nowhere to live: they didn’t have their own place, and renting an apartment on their salary was completely unrealistic. Olesya's parents lived in Nizhny Novgorod region and, of course, they did not want to move there from the capital. Therefore, I had to live with his mother.
They worked in different shifts so that while one was at work, the other could go to the grocery store and cook food. When Vitalik was not on shift and was doing all the things, nothing unusual happened. But the mother tried her best to persuade her son to part with “this rubbish”, which is unworthy of him: she is poor and not smart enough (that’s with honors!) and not too beautiful and will go out on night shifts with just anyone...
If Olesya prepared food for at least two days, it would spoil the next morning. The milk the girl bought had turned sour, and the bread had become moldy. If she ironed when her mother-in-law was at home, she would definitely get burned on the hot iron or burn things through.
In their small room there were a huge number of cockroaches, which for some reason did not spread throughout the entire apartment, but modestly clustered in the corners, in the linen closet, even in sewing machine. Then the cockroaches disappeared as suddenly as they had appeared, but mice appeared out of nowhere. They gnawed everything they could - computer wires, clothes, books... Olesya constantly fainted from the mere sight of these rodents during the day and woke up at night when they darted around the bed, stepping on her arms, legs and even her face.
Then, along with the mice, the harmony in sexual relations spouses. Olesya kept saying that she felt like they were being spied on through the keyhole. Several times she clearly felt how the bed, at the very peak moment, sagged under the weight of a person who sat down on the edge. Therefore, they even conceived a child outside the walls of the apartment - after going to the lake for a few days.
The pregnancy was difficult. Several times Olesya was kept in the obstetrics and gynecology department. The doctors shrugged it off - the fetus was developing normally, no pathologies were observed. No one could understand where the severe pain and bleeding came from. Unfortunately, in the sixth month, when the baby was already pushing sensitively, a miscarriage occurred, which almost cost Olesya her own life.
After this, the young wife gave her husband an ultimatum: “Either me or her!” They moved out of the apartment. Life returned to normal, Olesya easily became pregnant, carried her to term and gave birth healthy child. The mother-in-law did not even come to look at her grandson and did not congratulate the newlyweds.
After this, Olesya broke all ties with her mother-in-law and never saw her again.
I am already a mother-in-law myself, but three years spent in the same house with my husband’s mother taught me a reliable lesson that I learned well.
As a young student at a pedagogical university, I married out of incredible love and my young husband Gennady brought me to his place in one of the three rooms in the apartment where he lived with his mother, Alexandra Ivanovna. Lenya's brother was serving in the army at that time. I was met without enthusiasm, since my mother-in-law wanted to see her son as a son-in-law.
A bride had already been found, a lame girl, but with her own home. It didn’t work out, so the son brought home a timid village girl who was afraid to take a step so as not to displease her mother-in-law. My husband was an unwanted child and was raised by his maternal grandmother, but he did not know his father. But still, Alexandra Ivanovna had to settle her son, who returned from the army, with her. Soon, leaving a cramped one-room apartment, and in it, a drunkard ex-husband, Gennady’s stepfather, mother-in-law and two sons moved into a new spacious three-room apartment.
She was appreciated at work. My mother-in-law gave birth to Genka in the post-war years as a “girl,” but so that the reader is not mistaken about her moral character, I note that she was not a girl prostitute. It so happened, her dishonest fiancé left her pregnant, he was not yet ready for family life, and the mother-in-law was literate and good-looking. Again, where is she alone with the baby? It’s only in films that single mothers successfully make a career, so the three-month-old boy was left to his grandmother. But the mother no longer took part in his life. Soon she got married, gave birth to a son, Lenya, and only took the eldest one to stay in the city once, but her drinking stepfather caused a scandal - Gena never visited his mother again. The children's resentment was fueled by Lenya, who had been sneaky since childhood; he was also brought to the village for a while, in the summer, there he boasted, his mother received two gifts for the New Year and he ate both of them alone. He grew up well-fed. His poor brother Gena, deprived parental love, lived in a squat hut under a thatched roof in cold and hunger, only occasionally saw a pathetic little bag of sticky pads, but his grandmother did not deprive him of love.
Without parental support, Gena could not get an education - he immediately went to work after school, then into the army. I studied later, by correspondence. Mom loved Lenya, but how could it be otherwise? After all, her son regularly sent parcels to the army, but she only sent Genka ten rubles once.
My best women's years slowly absorbed the poison of hatred, I reliably earned neurosis. Alexandra Ivanovna, waiting for Lenin’s return from the army, purposefully got us out of the apartment. Genka didn’t hurt me, but my mother-in-law didn’t hurt me in his presence. But when he was not at home, here she gave vent to words: angry, offensive to me, insulting. My mother, who came from the village, was not allowed on the threshold; she was sheltered by a neighbor on the floor below, and we saw each other on the street during the day. I didn’t complain to my husband, I avoided a scandal, but I left home on weekends, went to the cinema, went to museums, because my mother-in-law was at home, and this meant humiliation and insults again. I looked into other people's windows and passionately dreamed of my own corner, albeit small and cramped, but my own, where there would be no offense and I would not huddle in the corners, fleeing from anger. But Gena, coming home from work, was hungry, and even if I was at home, I couldn’t go into the kitchen without him and cook something, I sat locked in the room.
His grandmother, whom Gena called his mother, died. What struck me was the following: Alexandra Ivanovna, getting ready for her mother’s funeral, sang, as she always did, Gena cried.
was born in me new life, but I, half-starved, tired after classes, walked through the snowdrifts in an exceptionally snowy and cold winter that year I walked along the houses and asked passers-by about an apartment for rent. My pregnant daughter-in-law received a glass of freshly squeezed juice in the morning, but my mother-in-law forbade me to use it washing machine. My life turned into hell when Lenya returned from the army and my mother, obsessed with the idea of marrying him as soon as possible in order to drive out the hated family of her eldest son, simply tormented me with nagging, insulted my parents, to make it even more painful.
The TV was in our room and Alexandra Ivanovna watched the obligatory film after the “Time” program until late, but I wanted to sleep so much, I got up early, I had to be at the institute by eight o’clock. It was simply sophisticated torture from lack of sleep.
A son was born in a cold, blizzard February. He was never in his grandmother’s arms, only in the morning, with a sigh, she noted: “I cried again!”
But everything comes to an end, we moved into a three-room apartment in a house nearby, occupied one room, lived, so to speak, with a shared apartment, there was such an expression then, in the seventies. My son was two weeks old. It was nothing that there were three housewives in a small kitchen; I had the same rights as everyone else - they didn’t humiliate me, they didn’t look into the pots, slamming the lids in irritation. Grandmother never came, but they lived not far from each other, ten minutes of leisurely walking. I didn’t understand then that this contradicted feminine essence-the first grandson did not evoke related feelings in the mother-in-law. I only understood when I became a grandmother myself. At night I got up, protecting the peace of my daughter-in-law, although I worked and am still working for the sake of my grandson, but taking the squeaking lump in my hands, I felt in my chest a sweet, aching, indescribable feeling of love and tenderness for this dear creature.
And what about Lenya, who stayed with his mother in a spacious apartment? First of all, I lowered our furniture set, my dowry, into the entrance. We rented a furnished room and there was simply nowhere to put our furniture. Then he married a broken woman, who, as it soon turned out, was a drinker, five years older than himself. I didn’t communicate with them, I was still not welcome at my mother-in-law’s house, but Gena saw his brother and visited them. In the newly formed family, there were now even fights; the “younger” daughter-in-law did not want to give in to her mother in anything, she knew her rights, but the police came to separate them. Lenya once again did a “good” deed for us, he took the queue at the housing cooperative, where his older brother had applied before him. But Lenya already had two children, an undeniable advantage, so our family was refused, crossed off the list, and his family was put on a waiting list. Alexandra Ivanovna was scared of our return. If only she knew that I wouldn’t live with her at any price .I would divorce my husband, if he objected, I would go to the village to live with my parents, but I would never return to her apartment. But my mother didn’t know this and persuaded Lenya to give up “our” apartment and the queue returned to us, but Lenya took a certain amount for it, but of course, relatives are relatives, but the concession must be paid.
We finally moved into our house, the down payment was made by my parents, Lenin’s wife, Valya, by the way, who had not worked a day after the birth of her children, also moved in, but to prison for theft. In those years, self-service stores began to appear, and Valya grabbed a bottle of champagne more than once. They drank together with Lenya, however, she was imprisoned for a more serious theft.
Alexandra Ivanovna’s grandchildren remained in her arms, but she did not complain, because they were born from her beloved son. She didn’t want to know our son, however, he didn’t perceive her as a grandmother. He called me by his first name and patronymic; she did not associate it with the word “grandmother”.
She became decrepit, began to call emergency services, and often knocked on her son’s room at night, which he was extremely dissatisfied with. He expressed his dissatisfaction angrily, his grandchildren supported him, there is no place for grandmother in the apartment, young people need to arrange their personal lives, but here the old woman clings to life and does not allow him to sleep. Lenya came to us: we need to take his mother with him, he is tired of her, it’s time for the eldest to pay off his son’s “debt,” as they like to write on social networks now. I refused to discuss this issue, Gena was not enthusiastic, but agreed. “Okay,” I said then, “but our son is getting married soon, I won’t give him as a son-in-law. The best place in the apartment - he and his wife, his grandmother - what will be left, don’t blame me.” That’s how ungrateful I turned out to be. Of course, one of the rooms would be hers. But my mother did not want to come to us on such conditions and asked to younger sister to the village. If only she knew that my son grew up to be a decent man, so did she, and I didn’t grow from a naive girl into a vengeful fury. She was taken to the village, but with furniture and part of her pension. Clean, accustomed to convenience, medical care Alexandra Ivanovna suffered. It was cold in the spacious hut in winter, it was blowing from under the door, she furtively threw logs into the stove, she was freezing. Her beloved grandchildren visited her, but of course, on certain dates every month. The village nephews, seeing guests rushing to see their grandmother through the window, announced to their parents: “The collectors have arrived.” Sometimes Lenya came, imposing, boorish, but my mother was happy: “My son has arrived!”
My mother-in-law lived in exile for seven years, her grandchildren came every month, and my grandmother, dear person, while regularly taking home the portion of the pension they were entitled to, they did not strive to work. Their mother returned from places not so distant, but dad did not accept her. He loved to drink stolen champagne, and his wife held the answer; he should have stopped her vicious craving for theft, whatever, but he didn’t let her, the mother of his children, out the door anymore.
At eighty-two years old, Alexandra Ivanovna died, deprived of medical care and good living conditions, and just the basic care it needs old man. A mother's love flawed if she is selective, they love all children equally. It is impossible to love a daughter-in-law like a daughter, but to treat her decently, the mother-in-law is simply obliged and will reward her for this.
