For over ten years, I have been living and working in Spain. I didn’t leave home out of choice – I needed to raise my son, give him a good education, and help him get on his feet.
I’m proud of what I’ve achieved during these years. My son Mikhail graduated from a prestigious university, got a job at a reputable IT company, and recently I helped him buy a car and contributed a significant amount to his wedding. Now he’s independent and handling life well.
He often tells me:
– Mom, stop working already! Come back home, you’ve earned a break.
But I can’t. What’s waiting for me back there? No, I want to save up for a peaceful old age, make some good renovations, maybe even start a small business. And I’ve gotten used to Spain by now.
This winter, I decided to come back home for Christmas. Mikhail met me at the station with his wife Katya. To be honest, I still can’t find common ground with her.
She seems like a nice girl: from a simple family, not spoiled, but she carries herself like she’s a queen. Her condescending look and tone always sting me a little.
For the holiday, I prepared everything the way we used to do in our family. I brought expensive delicacies from Spain – so they could try something new. Despite the exhaustion from a 12-hour flight, I immediately got to work in the kitchen, then started cleaning and even rearranged the furniture.
When we sat down to the table, I finally decided to ask the question that had been bothering me for a long time:
– Katya, do you and Mikhail plan to have children? I really want to have grandchildren to look after while I still have the energy.
Katya looked up and, with a slight smile, said:
– Would you like to buy us an apartment?
I froze, not believing my ears.
– What did you say? – I asked quietly.
– Everything you heard, – she replied calmly. – We’re currently cramped in a rental apartment. Maybe it would be better for you to help us with housing rather than ask about grandchildren?
I couldn’t hold myself back.
– Do you seriously think I should work for another ten years to buy you an apartment? Mikhail, haven’t I done enough for you?
Katya didn’t back down:
– Well, you’re doing great in Spain. You’re used to working.
– Yes, I’m used to it! But now I work for myself, not for you, – I snapped.
Mikhail intervened:
– Mom, Katya, enough already! This is Christmas, not the time for arguments.
But the mood for the holiday was ruined. Katya dramatically went to another room, slamming the door, and I was left sitting at the table, feeling completely drained.
– So, how do we move on from this? – I quietly asked my son.
That night, I couldn’t sleep. Thoughts kept swirling in my head: Who have I been living for all these years? Why, after everything I’ve done, am I hearing these words?
Maybe it’s true, I should just go back to Spain and work for myself. Let them live how they want.
