My son was my friend and my lifelong support. However, when he got married, we became strangers.

I never thought that my child could change under someone else’s influence. My only son, Ethan, was always polite, kind, and helpful. He was like that when he was young and remained so as he grew older. Until he got married, we often met, talked, helped each other, and had no secrets between us—within reasonable limits, of course.

Everything changed when Emma came into his life. As a wedding gift, Emma’s parents gave her and Ethan a fully renovated one-bedroom apartment. The most important thing was that it now belonged to them.

Although I’ve never visited their apartment, Ethan showed me pictures of it on his phone. After losing my husband, I had no savings left, so I decided to give the young couple nearly all my jewelry. I told Emma that if she wanted to melt it down, I wouldn’t mind.

Emma is a woman with a strong personality. I noticed how she peeked into the envelopes they received as wedding gifts, curious about how much money they got. One must be cautious around her. On the other hand, perhaps this means she’ll be a good wife since she pays such attention to details.

Modern women, unfortunately, often treat their husbands’ money as their own, spending it however they see fit. Later, they divorce, take half of the assets, and move on to another victim. Of course, I don’t wish this upon Ethan.

Six months after the wedding, Emma mentioned that she didn’t want to have a child—not yet, at least—not while they were living in a one-bedroom apartment. She said she didn’t know what to do. She didn’t want to take out a loan, but it was unclear when they would be able to afford a bigger place. Ethan wasn’t a director of a major company yet, she mused aloud.

The thing is, I live in a house that my late husband had started building. However, the renovations were never finished. Winter is especially hard for me since I can’t afford to heat the entire house. Emma suggested that I sell the house and buy a one-bedroom apartment for myself.

She thought the rest of the money could go toward a bigger apartment for them, and then they could consider having children. Do you see the kind of daughter-in-law I have? The timid mother-in-law is expected to move into a tiny apartment so they can have the best of everything.

And later, they’d take my apartment, and I’d end up in a nursing home. If, earlier, I had been willing to consider their suggestion—on the condition that they’d help me financially once a month—now I wouldn’t even think about it. With someone like Emma, you need to be cautious because you never know what to expect.

After this conversation, Ethan visited me a few times. He suggested I think about his wife’s idea. Why would I need such a big house when I could live in a smaller apartment and pay much less for utilities?

I repeatedly told him I didn’t agree. Our town is just beginning to develop. In five to ten years, property values will increase significantly. My house won’t be on the outskirts anymore, so selling it now would be unwise. Once, I even proposed we swap homes. Their family could move into my house, and I could move into their apartment. It’s the same, isn’t it?

But Emma didn’t agree. She didn’t like the idea of having to renovate the entire house while I’d live in their apartment—a wedding gift—without any additional costs.

She wants to live comfortably, even if what I suggested would be more practical. That’s just the kind of person she is, and there’s nothing I can do about it.

A few weeks ago, I fell ill. I felt terrible—stuck in bed, unable to get up. I needed medicine because I had a fever, a cough, and a headache.

I called Ethan, asking him to come. I hoped he’d bring me some food. I know younger people are busy, but I couldn’t cook for myself. In the past, Ethan would have rushed over immediately and started helping me.

But not anymore. He came the next day after my call. He made me some tea, left me with a box of aspirin that looked expired—it didn’t even have a proper package—shrugged, and left. Thankfully, my friend came over and brought me everything I needed. But what if she hadn’t?

My son used to be my friend, my lifelong support. I trusted him completely. But after his marriage, we became strangers. There’s nothing I can do about it, but he’s still my only child, and I love him deeply.

The rational part of me knows the bond we once shared has been broken. Apparently, the time came when he had to choose between me and his wife. The choice was obvious.

 

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My son was my friend and my lifelong support. However, when he got married, we became strangers.