Dear mother-in-law!
I’m sorry, I can’t call you mom, as I wanted to when we met your son and he proposed to me. Of course, I really wanted to get married, my close friends had been wives for quite some time, and I watched with envy as they interacted with their husbands, taking care of each other, showing respect and love.
I dreamed of the kind of family where a man would always be there for me, where I could find support in him, a family where children would grow up and we would take care of them together. I also dreamed of taking care of my husband, that he would feel my love, that he would be able to talk to me about anything.
When I first saw and understood his attitude toward you, I thought that you raised exactly the kind of man who should be in my life. Before the wedding you had one phrase that outlined the prospects that awaited me in the future, you may have forgotten it, but I still remember it, and I very much regret that I did not give your words the importance they deserved at the time. Here they are: “My son is used to taking care of only one woman.” That little phrase is the essence of what you put into your son from childhood, and continue to support him in every way when he is a man.
Your son will never refuse to run to the pharmacy to get pills for you, take them across town, although the pharmacy is just steps from your house, and buy citramon itself is not difficult. If you have a creaking front door, my husband rushes to grease, so you do not worry about such a “serious” problem. The fact that all the doors in our apartment squeak in different tones, he did not care, as well as falling off the doors of the closet.
When my husband drove me to the cottage instead of taking me for a walk in the park with you, you made a scandal, accusing me of callousness, laziness, and a habit of moving around in comfort. And why not, it is really more comfortable to travel by car than by train, and dragging a dacha crop by a shuttle bus is not the best idea either. But then you wanted to get some fresh air. The proposal to do it at the dacha did not pass, as there is something to do on the farm.
My husband is a wonderful son. When you couldn’t sleep, and at two in the morning you shared your bad mood with him, not thinking about the fact that both your son and I have to go to work in the morning, he rushed to take a cab, as he had been drinking a little in the evening and didn’t want to risk his rights. Instead of thanking him, you expressed to him that it was okay to refrain from drinking with your wife if your mother might need help at night. Of course, you can abstain from anything, not just liquor, because he is your son and I am “only” his wife.
I congratulate you for not giving me the palm of your hand in your relationship with your son, although it’s silly to share a man between us, but that’s exactly what you’ve done. You don’t want to share him with anyone.
Thank God we don’t have children. They wouldn’t realize right away, but they wouldn’t be able to claim Daddy either, since Grandma has priority. Your caring son didn’t even support me when I really needed it, my friend did, understanding that depression won’t do me any good. And I was so looking forward to at least a few words of support, sympathy and understanding from your son, but instead he rushed to you once again with fertilizer for houseplants.
Yes, I confess, I lost; I could not become for him what you are, though I tried very hard. It is a pity that all these efforts went unnoticed by your son. He is really in love with one woman, you. Those words of love he spoke to me were a mere formality, a protocol between the bride and groom.
I want to be needed by a man, I don’t need a “glossy” perfect husband, let him not put things in strict order like your son does, let him sometimes come home after drinking with friends at work, which your son has never allowed himself, the main thing is that he needs me, that he is worried about my failures, is happy about my successes.
I am very glad I realized my husband would never be that kind of a man. We didn’t even have children with him, because you don’t need strong emotions, your son was thrifting your heart, only yours, and no one else’s. This “thriftiness” is what drove me to get pregnant after all. Now I have another man in my life, and a little boy who will be born to us in three months.
I promise that I will raise this boy to be a real man, but not in your sense of the word. Thank you for the experience I gained in my marriage to your son. I bring him back to you, just as healthy, attentive and caring. Be happy with him.
Your former daughter-in-law.
