30/12/2024
At 65 years old, I realized that my life had come to a standstill. I spent all my younger years working to sustain my kids. It hadn't been in vain — I helped them buy homes, set up their lives. But I was left with hardly any savings.
So, even at my age, I took a job as a cleaner in a furniture store. I don't see anything shameful in this — there's nothing wrong with working to put food on the table, especially right before Christmas. I wanted to buy gifts for my kids and grandkids, and it all gets more expensive.
Days ago, by chance, my son Matthew came into the store where I work. I walked over to greet him with a hug, but he turned and ran away in horror. It made me feel awful — had I really failed to teach my children basic respect?
I tried calling him, but he declined, as did my daughter. On Christmas Eve, my children left me completely alone just because I am a cleaner.
I cried all night. The next day, I heard a knock at the door — surely, it was my neighbor who didn't want to leave me by myself.
But, as it turned out, it wasn't her.