My parents divorced when my brother and I were still in high school. Immediately we moved in with my grandmother (my mother’s mother). Mom’s divorced younger brother, a big drinker, also lived there. That’s why he was kicked out of the family, although he wasn’t aggressive or rowdy when he was drunk. There were four rooms in the house, so there was enough room for everyone.
After school I went to study in the regional center, and then I found a job in the capital city. I rented a room, and when my brother moved in with me, we found a one-room apartment. My mother is a pensioner, so one day we invited her to come over for New Year’s Eve to have some fun. She really liked it here, and we were more comfortable – the place was cleaned up and dinner was prepared. So my mom “stayed” with us for 5 years. Her brother gradually sent her things to us, and I realized that my mother was no longer going home.
Over time my mother loved to walk around the city, sit in cafes, and then go on some excursions to other cities as well. At first it was like a birthday present, then it became ispovedi.com the norm. For groceries and for her small expenses my brother and I would add up, and this money would lie in a vase on the table. At times my mother began to say, as if in jest, “and the vase is already empty, give me some more.” We gave money again. But by this time we already had girls, the expenses increased, and I suggested that my mother find a part-time job for her. She’s a librarian and it was easy to get a job near our house. The job wasn’t hard, she knew her, and $200 would be hers for cafes and outings. But she took offense, saying she had worked hers off and it was hard for her already. Although driving around town for a day, it’s not hard for her.
My brother and his girlfriend found an apartment, and he moved out, and I got the opportunity to live with his girlfriend. I had to start this unpleasant conversation on my mom’s departure to her house. She cried and resented it, but she still left after a week. We sent all her stuff back. It was early spring.
Soon she was already complaining to us that she was having constant fights with her grandmother, that her brother was driving her out of the house, though he hadn’t been drinking at all for two years (he agreed to go to therapy). Every day began with complaints, with complaints to everyone, and even threats that no one needs her, and she has no reason to live in this world. Although logically she should take care of her mother, who was 84 years old!
In the fall I took her back to my house. She immediately became alert and energetic, loves to walk to her favorite places in town, sit in a cafe more than once a day, post photos from her walks and coffee in social networks. And I started fighting with my girlfriend. She suggested we leave my mother here and rent another apartment. But I can’t pay for two at once. My brother went to Poland for work and just sends her his part of the money. And all the problems now fall on me.
Can’t my mother understand what’s stopping me from building my own life and saving at least some money? If she didn’t have a place to live, I could understand her. What kind of selfishness is this on her part?
