My husband and I were very happy together, traveling a lot, and devoting our free time between vacations to theaters, museums, and exhibitions. Seven years after we were married we decided to enlarge our family, and nine months later my husband met me from the maternity hospital, carefully holding an envelope with a blue bow in his hands.
Our son grew up in love and care, except that I was constantly worried about his future, his adult life. I often thought that sooner or later he would find someone who would be more important to him than me. My husband reassured me, telling me that all in good time, that it was absolutely normal, that my son would have a beloved woman, that she would give him children and us grandchildren. Somehow I didn’t see myself as a happy grandmother at the time, being a loving and caring mother.
My son successfully graduated from college, got a job at a prestigious firm, successfully advanced in his career, he had short-term affairs with women, but he was in no hurry to get married. Our spacious apartment could accommodate the three of us, not embarrassing each other, my man was always fed, neatly dressed, showed me enough attention, in a word, we did not need anyone except ourselves. It was probably a mistake my husband and I had made, living together with our now-grown son. There were opportunities to buy an apartment for him, but when my husband brought it up, my son flatly refused: “I don’t need an apartment! Who am I going to live there with?” We laughed at his humor, and that was the end of the real estate move.
When my son was 32 years old, my husband died suddenly of a heart attack. My son and I suffered this loss very hard, if not for his support, I do not know whether my heart would have stood or not.
Gradually, everything came back to relative normal. My son still lived with me, not even wanting to hear about changing the apartment. Now all my care was focused on my son, I took care of him as I had when he was a child, he sometimes even laughed when I checked to see if he was warm.
My son’s birthday, his 37th birthday, was celebrated by the two of us. He didn’t want to invite anyone, we went with him to a restaurant, settled at a cozy table in the corner, the evening was spent with pleasant live music. Drinking champagne disposes to revelations, and I, not refraining, asked my son, whether he was going to get married? My son smiled and answered:
– Of course not!
– Why not, my son?
– Do you want me to get married? Why? I am so cozy and comfortable with you…
– Of course I do, my son, and I also want to go out with my grandson, read him bedtime stories, find common ground with your wife…
– Well, the latter – I do not know how you would get along, but as for walking, do you want me to give you a puppy, you can walk with him as much as you want!
My son’s response just dumbfounded me. He put the child and the dog on the same scale! Seeing the impression his answer made on me, my son smoothed the edges:
– With the puppy, of course, the joke is unfortunate, I’m sorry, but I don’t think you’re going to be a grandmother for the foreseeable future.
After that birthday, my thoughts became the exact opposite of the ones that had possessed me when my son was a baby. I thought about the fact that I had become too attached to my son, and now he couldn’t imagine life with another woman and didn’t want to start a family and have children.
Maybe there will be a woman who will take my place in his life, now I would like that very much, unlike my adult son…
