I haven’t spoken to my mother in five years. In the beginning it was very hard on my soul, but in an instant my mother became a stranger to me.
We lived in an urban village. Mom worked as an accountant at a brick factory, Dad worked as a driver in a factory. I was 9 years old when my brother was born. And that’s when the problems in our family started. Mom decided that I had more time than she did because Dad was at work and she was with a young child.
I cleaned the house, fed all the pets, and my mom would go out with my little brother in her arms and just boss me around. If I did something wrong, she would yell and call me names, and once she even hit me. But she said later that I had driven her crazy. In her mind that was an apology. Then I was also responsible for picking up my brother from kindergarten.
Later there were conflicts between my father and mother, and he left me for another woman. I don’t blame him, it wasn’t easy to withstand my mother’s temper. After that she transferred all her anger to me. Maybe that’s why I got married so early (at 18), just to get away from home. I did not tell my husband anything, continued to go to my mother every weekend, to help in the household, even gave money. My mother was a pensioner, and the fact that we already had two children didn’t bother her at all.
My brother was smarter than I was. He got married, and when my mother started arguing with her daughter-in-law, he went to town and stopped communicating. At first I felt sorry for him, his mother was worried, but he said that she didn’t love anyone but herself, and that she was worried because the neighbors were ashamed that her son had refused. I only later realized how right he was.
That day we arrived earlier than usual and didn’t find my mother at home. A neighbor came out and started telling me how her mother was complaining about me and her husband, that we only came to pick up our bags, that we couldn’t at least help out with a dime. My husband stood there and looked at me in silence. Then he got in the car and said we were leaving. But halfway down the road I still persuaded him to go back, because my mother would be upset, and the neighbor will say that we were.
Mother was already at home and pouted with reproaches that we came late and she was lying sick, but had to get up, since no one else has a goat and chickens to feed. She pretended to be sick perfectly, and her husband couldn’t stand it and said: “how come you’re so sick out of the house. We came, the neighbor saw us, and then just drove to the store. My mother was stunned, blushed, then started insulting us with different words.
We haven’t spoken since. She called once, but I told her that she should only count on herself now.
