My wife and I divorced when our children were already independent: my son was working and living with his girlfriend in a rented apartment, while my daughter was studying at university and living in a student dormitory.
At that time, we lived in an apartment that my wife had inherited from her grandmother. After the divorce, I returned to the village—to my parents’ house. My elderly mother and my brother, who had also been divorced for a long time, were still living there. They welcomed me warmly, but finding a job in the village was extremely difficult.
I got divorced in late autumn, and throughout the winter, I survived by doing odd jobs. However, that kind of life was not for me. I needed to help my children, and I could not allow myself to be a burden to my mother and brother.
When spring arrived, I decided to go abroad for work. I toiled tirelessly, rarely returning home. When my son got married, I bought him an apartment. Some time later, I purchased a home for my daughter as well.
Every time I returned home, I left a significant amount of money for my mother and brother—to maintain the house, improve the household, and renovate the property. I believed that one day, I would come back for good and live in my hometown. With my earnings, my parents’ house was fully renovated: a gas supply was installed, running water was connected, and all the necessary structural and interior work was completed.
I spent ten years working abroad. The hard labor took a toll on me both physically and mentally. Moreover, I was no longer young—I realized that I simply didn’t have the strength to continue.
When I returned, my family welcomed me with joy. I settled in my parents’ house, took care of the household, and found a job as a school janitor. The salary was modest but stable, and I still had some savings left.
One day, when my mother and brother were not at home, I accidentally found some documents. After reading them, I discovered that all the property belonged to my brother.
When my family returned, I asked, “And what about me?”
My brother merely shrugged and said it was just a matter of paperwork. My mother explained that she had always hoped I would find a woman abroad, start a new family, and build a life for myself elsewhere.
It was incredibly painful to hear.
What should I do now?
Go back abroad? But my health is no longer the same. Move in with my children? They have their own lives and responsibilities.
I don’t know what to do next.
