A Parent’s Heart: A Story Thank you for your support, your likes, your kindness, and your feedback on my stories, for subscribing, and a HUGE thank you from me and my five kitty-cats for all your generous donations. Please share your favourite stories on social media – it brings joy to the author! “Why are you so gloomy this morning? Not even a smile – come on, let’s have breakfast.” Her husband came into the kitchen, stretching sleepily, grateful that it was finally the weekend. On the hob, eggs and bacon were sizzling away, while his wife poured the tea. She piled more than half the eggs onto his plate, added some bread, and said, “Eat up, use your fork!” “Did I do something wrong, Natasha?” Arkady asked gently. “We both did. We haven’t raised the children right,” replied Natalie, settling at the table and eating without much appetite. “The kids are grown now, we denied ourselves so much while bringing them up, times were hard. We did everything for them— but who supports us? Even if it’s just with kind words? They’re always having problems: they’re bored, or struggling for money. Both Sam and Sophie just keep moaning.” “What makes you think that?” Arkady was already finishing his eggs, happily spreading butter on fresh bread with a dollop of jam on top. “It’s easier for you, they come to me with all their gripes. Yesterday, Sam wanted to take the family bowling, asking for money until payday, and I lost my temper and refused. He was so upset. And earlier, Sophie called in a terrible mood—her singing career isn’t taking off. If you like singing, do it for your own pleasure, but you need a real job too! She wants singing to pay her way, but it’s just not working out. Not everyone was born for the big stage—it’s time she realized and got a proper job! And don’t get me started on how she and Sam have stopped talking to each other, after being so close as kids.” Natalie pushed aside her now-cold eggs and sipped her tea. “Don’t worry so much, it’ll all work out. Remember, we were young once,” Arkady tried to reassure her, but it only seemed to make her more upset. “Oh come on, Ark, you remember! We lived within our means and were grateful for what we had. When Sam was born, it was sheer joy—my friend gave us the cot and pram, my sister passed down baby grows and blankets. Everything was second-hand but like new, kids grow so fast! And we were happy, and proud as punch when we finally got our first car, an old Ford Escort. We even parked it outside like royalty! But with our two, unless they’ve been bored on a beach in Spain, they act as if life’s not worth living. Who taught them that? Not us.” “These are different times, Natasha. More temptation, and they’re young—they’ll understand, just give them time.” “I just hope it’s not too late: they’re in such a rush for all life’s riches, but life’s flying by, Arkady. Sometimes I look in the mirror—how did I get so old? A grandma. And you’re a grandad…” Their conversation was interrupted by a phone call. Their son Sam’s neighbour was on the line, calling from the hospital ward. “Oh, not again,” muttered Natalie, her eyes widening as she spoke. “Arkady, get dressed, quick—Sam’s in hospital. His neighbour called from the ward.” “What happened?” Arkady asked, jumping up to get dressed in a hurry. “I’m not sure, something with a power tool… his hand was sliced, they’re trying to reattach it, I just hope it’s all going to be alright—let’s go, now.” They dressed quickly—no longer young, but not quite old either—their eyes filled with worry. Off they dashed, forgetting everything else, racing to their son’s side in hospital… As they rushed, their daughter Sophie called. “Mum, can I drop by for lunch?” “Come by, love, we should be back by then,” Natalie puffed, cutting the call short as she hurried after Arkady to the bus stop. At the hospital they were told his hand was saved but they couldn’t see him yet. “I’m not leaving until I see him,” Natalie insisted, settling in the waiting area with Arkady beside her. Suddenly Sophie rushed into the hospital, flinging herself into their arms. “Mum, why do you look so worried? It’s all fine—Sam stayed late doing some work, cutting bolts on someone’s car, and his hand slipped. He’s awake, they stitched him up—he can even move his fingers. Mum, you look dreadful—honestly, it’s all fine!” “How do you know?” Natalie gasped. “Sam and I always message, and I chat with his wife, Leah, too. We look out for each other, why?” “We thought you two barely spoke these days—why didn’t you keep us in the loop?” asked Arkady. “Dad, you two have always been so strong, able to get through anything—so we try not to worry you with our nonsense,” Sophie smiled, “Besides, you both look so young! We want you to finally enjoy yourselves.” “I thought you didn’t care anymore,” Natalie smiled back, relieved. “No, Mum, it’s just your generation—so resilient! We try to live up to you, even if we don’t always manage, but we always try, okay?” Their worries eased, the parents finally smiled. “Mum, Dad, I wanted to tell you—I got a new job! And people keep inviting me to sing at different events—nurseries, care homes… Yesterday I sang at a home for the elderly; they clapped so much! One lady even cried. Her daughter’s a famous singer, but she’s always away on tour… can you imagine leaving your own mum? Awful.” Suddenly Sophie hugged her parents tight. “We love you both so much—don’t ever think otherwise!” Just then the nurse allowed a brief visit. Natalie nearly burst into tears, but Sam reassured her. “Mum, honestly, the worst is over. Dad, remember that wasp’s nest that stung you so badly you ended up in hospital? Things happen. When I get out, come over for New Year’s—let’s all be together, we hardly see each other. Sophie wants to bring her new boyfriend, she’s been meaning to tell you.” Natalie and Arkady walked home afterwards, deciding on a good stroll. No longer young, but not yet old—just parents, all the same. Oh, that parental heart. It always aches for your children. You look at other families and always want yours to be the best, to do things the right way, to always listen to you. But they have to find their own way, whatever that might be… And in the end, our children—they’re good children. After all, they’re ours…

A Parents Heart A Tale

Thank you for your kindness, your thoughtful comments and letters, your generous support, and for sharing these stories with your friends and loved ones. My five whiskered companions and I are ever so grateful to those who have shown us such warmth.

Why so glum this morning? Not even a hint of a smile! Come on, lets have our breakfast.

George wandered into the kitchen, stretching and yawning, content that it was finally Saturday.

Bacon and eggs sizzled away in the pan, while his wife poured out the tea. With a sigh, she slipped the lions share of the eggs onto his plate and added a thick slice of toast. Eat up, dont waste it.

Mary, have I done something wrong? George asked gently, eyeing her.

His wife, Mary Elizabeth, sat down beside him, her own appetite quite absent. Its not just you, its both of us. We raised our children poorly, somehow…

Our Emily and Peter are grown now. We went without, so they could have more, do you remember? We stood by them through it all. Now, it seems, were left to fend for ourselves, at least with words. They always have problems, if it isnt boredom, its money troubles. Both Emily and Peter havent stopped their moaning.

What makes you say that?

George had already polished off his eggs and was merrily spreading butter and strawberry jam thick on his bread.

I hear all of it, darling, Im their mother. Yesterday, Peter wanted a loan til pay day so he could take his family bowling. I lost my patience and declined, and he took it hard. Before that, Emily was on the phone, miserable again. Her singing career isnt taking off, and its dampening her spirits. I told her, sing for the joy of it, but get a steady job! She wants to earn her living performing, but it seems that dream is slipping away. Not everyone gets that chance; she must see that by now. And can you believe it she and Peter barely speak, when as children, they were thick as thieves!

Mary pushed aside her now-cold eggs and sipped her tea.

Dont fret so, things will come right. We were young once too, you remember? George tried to reassure her, but she only became more impassioned.

I remember, all right! George, we made do with what we had and counted every blessing! When Peter was born, I was delighted. My friend gave me the pram and cot, my sister passed on clothes and blankets. All secondhand, but new to us, children grow so fast anyway. And we were happy! When we bought that old Morris Minor, we felt like royalty kept it in a little garage by the house, as proud as you please! For our two, life is a disaster unless theyve been abroad! Did we ever teach them that nonsense?

These are different times, Mary. So many temptations, and theyre still young. Let them be, theyll understand in time.

I just hope it isnt too late chasing fortune, and meanwhile, life is flying by, George. I glance in the looking glass and hardly recognise myself. A grandmother! And you, a grandfather.

Their talk was suddenly broken by the shrill ring of the telephone. Peter was calling.

Well, here we go again, Mary murmured, taking the receiver. As she listened, her face changed, and she leapt up, dread in her voice.

George, get your coat. Peters in hospital his neighbour rang from the ward!

Whats happened? George was on his feet, scrambling to dress.

I couldnt quite get it, something with a power tool a disc shattered and slashed his hand. Theyre trying to save it, oh please God he keeps his hand! Lets go, quickly!

Quickly, they bundled themselves into their coats no longer young, but not yet old, their eyes wide with worry.

They dashed off, everything else forgotten, to the hospital.

On the way, Emily rang. Mum, shall I pop by at lunchtime?

Come over, love, we should be back, Mary called breathlessly down the phone, barely letting Emily respond before hurrying after George toward the bus stop.

At the hospital, the news was tentatively good Peters hand had been saved, though they would have to wait before seeing him.

Im not leaving until Ive seen him, Mary stated, settling in the waiting area, George at her side.

Suddenly, Emily rushed in, breathless, and threw her arms around them.

Mum, why do you both look so dreadfully worried? Its all right! Peter was just helping someone with a car after work. A stubborn bolt, the disc slipped, his hand was cut, but the surgeons have mended him! Hes awake, his fingers move Mum, dont look so terrified!

But how do you know? Mary asked, stunned.

Im always chatting with Peter and with his wife, Helen. We look out for one another, as siblings should!

Well, we thought the two of you didnt speak at all, George said, perplexed.

Oh, Dad, you and Mum are so strong, unshakable, nothing holds you back. We just didnt want to add to your worries, Emily replied, smiling. You both look as young as ever, we mostly try to stay out of your way so you can finally live for yourselves.

Mary managed to smile back. And I was quite sure youd forgotten about us.

No, Mum! Your generation youre made of sterner stuff. We do our best to take after you, even if we fall short sometimes but we try, we really try.

The worry began to fade from their eyes.

Mum, Dad, I meant to tell you I found a new job. They even invite me to sing at different events. At the nursery last week, and just yesterday at the old folks home you should have seen how they clapped! One dear lady cried her daughters a famous singer but always travelling, so shes been left in care. It was heartbreaking.

Emily suddenly hugged her parents tightly. And Peter and I love you both dearly. Dont ever think otherwise.

At that moment, a nurse called them in for a short visit with Peter. This time, Mary could hardly hold back her tears, but Peter said gently,

Mum, Im all right now. Dont worry. Dad, remember how you told us about that wasp nest in the garage where you kept the car? You were stung so badly you nearly didnt make it, ended up in hospital. Strange things happen. Once Im home, come over for New Years lets make that a tradition. Emily wants you to meet her young man. She wasnt able to tell you before, but its high time.

Mary and George chose to walk home together, arm in arm, their steps a little lighter.

Not exactly young, but far from old, parents nonetheless.

Ah, the tender heart of a parent, always aching for their children. Its easy to believe other peoples children are simply ordinary, and to hope ones own are a cut above, living rightly, obeying their parents.

But each child follows their own road, wherever it might lead. And good or bad, theyre ours forever our children.