When I was eight years old, my father left my mother, my younger sister and me. My sister was two years old, she had health problems and her condition was deteriorating. Taking care of my sick child required a lot of money, strength and patience. I did not know what kind of illness my sister had, I did not ask questions, but I saw how my mother suffered. She and my grandmother did even the impossible to save my sister. My father said he was tired, quarreled with my mother. I often saw my mother with crying eyes. When my father left home, I took it hard. It was a betrayal towards me. He was kind to me, took care of me while my mother took care of my sister.
The day my mother told me that my father left us was the saddest day of my life. He moved to another city, found another woman and forgot about us. My paternal grandmother asked him to return, but to no avail. A year later, my sister passed away. We were heartbroken. And my father never came, he did not even want to say goodbye to my little sister. My mother took the death of my sister very hard. My grandmother took care of me. Thank God, my grandmothers are very kind and loved us. They became my second and third mothers. After some time, my mother began to come to her senses.
She remembered me. With tears in her eyes she hugged me, kissed me and said that she would never leave me and would do everything possible for my happiness. She kept her promise. On the day of my sister’s birthday and on the anniversary of her death, we went to the cemetery and did not open this topic again. My mother and grandmother helped me, supported me in everything. They bought me a beautiful dress and I was the most beautiful at the graduation party. During all these years I never saw my father, though I never forgot him. I’m very sorry. He appeared only once, at my grandmother’s funeral. He came for the inheritance, thinking that my grandmother left him the apartment. But my kind and smart grandmother gave the apartment to me when I was still 12 years old.
