A strong wind was blowing that day. Women stood with autumn flowers from the front garden, the wind tore off the petals and scattered them on the ground. And their mother seemed to be sleeping… Some grandmothers stood in the distance without tears and special sadness in their eyes. Out of habit. There are few inhabitants left in this small village, and they saw off the last journey as usual. Two years ago, my father was buried here.
All the children came every weekend for almost two months and each time mentally said goodbye to him. That Sunday they also said goodbye. The mother organized everything herself. She did not ask for help, sympathy. She calmed everyone down. The son did not have time to come to his mother, they informed him late. The twins also did not have time to say goodbye in time. The younger sister, tall as her brothers, with a long blond braid, still looked like a girl and did not hold back tears. And she did not have time to find her mother. Mother never complained to her children. Not about anything. Always a slight sadness in her voice, and never about herself, not a word, all about children, grandchildren. She asked about everything, was interested in everything.
The son was with his mother for the last time in spring. He brought material to cover the roof, all summer he was trying to come himself, and then sent money for repairs. The material was still standing in the summer kitchen carefully covered with rags. Everyone returned to the house together. Just like they left it together. The guy took everyone to his city. The twins to work, the girl to study. The mother stood at the gate, in a sleeveless shirt and waved. For a long time, until the car disappeared behind the hill.
Sit down, – the girl put the plates on the table. Everyone started to talk, put chairs, and everyone remembered how it was before, as if nothing had changed. – Do you remember how mother bought gingerbread and hid it, and we found it and ate it secretly with milk? And she did not scold us …, – the boy recalled. -“Yes, she did not scold us at all, she would only look at us pitifully, and that was enough – she loved us and did not complain to her father. -And me most of all, – the girl said, finishing a piece of bread.
-“Why do you think so, as for me, everyone is the same?” “Well, no,” she said, “I remember we were coming from the forest, full buckets of strawberries. The sun was so joyful, the birds were singing, and she stopped, hugged me to her and whispered quietly in my ear: “Just don’t tell any of your brothers, otherwise they will be jealous, it’s a secret, understand?” – Yes, – I answered. Wait, my mother used to say that to me too: – Remember, when I was weak. After discharge, she came and took me home. So we were riding with her in the bus, she hugged me and said: “I love you most of all, but it’s a secret, don’t tell anyone, do you hear? Oh, I was glad, I thought she loved her brother more than me. The elder looked at his relatives and smiled. -“And my mother warned me not to blab that she loved me more than anyone else. – She loved everyone, did not demand anything in return. She gave everyone what she could. This is a lesson for each of us – how to live in a family and how to treat children. Do not forget your mother and honor your father!
