I was born very late to my parents, they were already in their forties when my mother got pregnant. Strangely enough, she walked well and had me nine months later with no problems. My mother told me that even experienced midwives and doctors were surprised at how well everything went, and then they even set an example for much younger women: “What are you afraid of, here’s the first time my mother gave birth, at forty-two years old, everything went like clockwork!” Women in the ward were surprised, asking mom, whether the doctors are not making things up, and my mother just smiled happily and waited for the discharge.
The first time I felt my mother’s age in kindergarten, when the nurse, who was a substitute in our group called me from the playground:
– Melissa, run over here, grandma’s here for you!
Confused mom did not correct the nurse, but my classmate laughed and started shouting out some taunts about the old grandmother. I didn’t think much about it, so I punched him in the head with a twig that I could get my hands on. It was not a strong blow, but the offender’s face was thoroughly scratched with thorns.
This happened just at the moment when his mother appeared on the playground and made a huge row about the “bully” who “either her mother or grandmother” could not bring up. This “either mother or grandmother” of hers was deeply imprinted in my memory, and from that day on I began to retaliate sneakily at every opportunity, but at the same time I became embarrassed that my mother really looked old. I tried to find the moment when she came to get me, and I ran to meet her so I wouldn’t have to pay attention to the kids.
When school started, I dreaded the thought that my father or mother might also be addressed as “grandfather” or “grandmother” at a PTA meeting. Teachers never had any complaints about me, I tried to study in an exemplary manner, and there were no questions at assemblies.
The older I got, the more I was embarrassed about my parents’ age. One day, I was already fourteen, my mother came to meet me from the music school. Autumn days are short, and she was worried that I would make it home safely after dark. When I saw my mother outside the school, I expressed quite emotionally that I was able to walk by myself and her presence was not necessary at all. I remember my mother was confused at the time, she had no idea about the real reason for my reaction…
Already studying at the institute, I started dating a fellow student. We were only a year away from graduation, our relationship was becoming more and more serious, Robert introduced me to his parents, introducing me as “my girlfriend. I sensed that Robert wanted a reciprocal introduction, but I delayed the moment in every way possible. Finally one day, after our date in the park, Robert took the initiative:
– Okay, now come in for cake, champagne, flowers, and we’re going to meet yours!
As much as I tried to deny it, Robert just laughed and said that he wanted to finally meet his future father-in-law and mother-in-law. The only thing I persuaded him to do was to call to warn him of our unexpected visit.
When we got to our house, Robert said hello to his father, and there was a noticeable pause when he handed the flowers to his mother. Robert looked intently at Mom, and only after a few seconds did he think to introduce himself.
There was a fairly relaxed atmosphere at the table, everyone behaved very casually, probably only I was a bit stiff, worried that my parents would seem too old to Robert.
After supper, Robert and Dad were alone in the study, discussing something lively, ignoring the fact that we had long ago washed the dishes and were waiting for their return from the realm of engineering ideas.
When I met him the next day, I asked Robert why he was so dull when he handed my mother the flowers. And my fiancé replied:
– I was just really surprised how beautiful your mom is!
I blushed, remembering my worries about “grandpa” and “grandma,” and Robert continued:
– And Dad! I have long dreamed of such an interlocutor, who easily understands what I want to say, he and I will have something to do!
I came home that day, too, with cake and champagne. My father, meeting me in the hallway, was surprised:
– What are we celebrating today? You spoil us so much!
And I put the cake and champagne, hugged my father and mother who came out of the room and said:
– Today we are celebrating the liberation from stereotypes! You’re the best I’ve got!
Mom cried a little, and then we sat together in the kitchen and remembered all those years that flew by so imperceptibly… To be honest, I do not remember a warmer and more sincere evening in our family…
