My childhood was sad. At first we lived four of us: Me, my mother, my father and my younger brother. My mother was seriously ill all her life. With age, the symptoms of the disease became more and more pronounced, she was forced to spend a lot of time in the hospital. My mother’s attacks scared me and my brother very much, we were small then and did not fully understand what was happening. At some point, my father got tired of living with a sick woman, and he found another lady and moved away. It became more difficult to live together. There was not a single adult around to help us, and our financial situation also worsened. My brother and I have been able to give injections since we were seven years old, because there was no one else to do them. My father practically did not visit us and did not help us in any way.
When I was twelve and my brother was ten, my mother’s condition worsened. She was hospitalized for a long time. My father was forced to take us to his place, my mother begged him not to leave us. So we ended up at my stepmother’s house. She was a real physical embodiment of that evil image from children’s fairy tales. They lived in the village, and she forced me and my brother to work for days on end. We did not have a single minute of rest. At that time, I loved the time I spent at school, because I could have a little rest from household chores. My father saw that she was abusing us, but he did not make any attempts to help. He just turned a blind eye to everything, as if we were not his family. This went on for two years. Then my mother got better, and she took us out of this hell. She passed away when I was already a student. I have not communicated with my father since then.
I can’t forgive him for his indifference to us. The resentment literally eats away at my soul. He was not present at my wedding, and I did not allow him to communicate with my grandchildren, although he did not want to. Recently I met him at the market. He had changed a lot, not for the better. He looked lethargic, lost a lot of weight. He told me that he had a serious illness, that he would soon be gone, apologized for everything. I just turned around and left. I want to finally forgive him, but I don’t know how… I can’t cope with my emotions.
