**”Can I Stay With You This Winter? The Heating Bills Are Sky-High and I Cant Chop Wood.”**
My daughter came over for the weekend to do my shopping, and I decided to ask: *”Can I stay with you this winter? The gas bills are through the roof, and I havent the strength to chop firewood.”* But she just sighed and said, *”Where, Mum? In my tiny flat? Maybe when Ive got a proper house. Then Ill take you.”*
Honestly, I wouldnt wish this sort of old age on my worst enemy.
Let me share my story with you. I was widowed far too youngjust 26. My husband left me with two little ones: my son, Oliver, was three, and my daughter, Emily, was barely more than a baby. I gave them everythingworked full-time, then came home to be cook, cleaner, and gardener all in one. We lived in a village, but money was tight as a drum. I mowed the lawn, chopped wood for heatingwhat else could I do? No husband to lean on.
The years flew by, and off they went to London and Manchester, chasing their big-city dreams.
Back when I was spry, I kept up the garden. When the grandkids visited, theyd have fresh veggies and milk from the local dairy. I scrimped my pension to help my children outnever thought twice.
But now? I can barely walk. Winters the worst.
So when Emily visited last weekend, I swallowed my pride and asked: *”Love, can I stay with you this winter? The heatings crippling, and I just cant manage the firewood anymore.”*
She looked at me like Id asked to move into Buckingham Palace. *”Mum, be serious. My flats the size of a postage stamp. Maybe when Ive got a proper house, yeah?”*
Then my legs gave out. The neighbors rang Oliver. *”Sorry, Mum,”* he said, *”works mad, the mother-in-laws poorlycant drop everything.”*
In the end, it was my sister Margaret who came. Didnt hesitatejust bundled me into her car. Bless her, Id be six feet under without her.
Months have passed. Not a word from my kids.
Funny, isnt it? When I was usefulfree childcare, homegrown veg, a bit of extra cashthey remembered me. Now? Forgotten.
What did I do wrong? When did my children turn into strangers?
So heres my plea: cherish your parents. No one else will love you so selflessly, so completely. And one day, you might just miss the chance to return the favor.
