I am 82 years old, I have 4 children, 11 grandchildren, 2 great-grandchildren and a room of 12 square meters.
I no longer have a home or expensive things, but I have someone who will clean my room, prepare food and bedding, measure my pressures and weigh me.
I no longer have the laughter of my grandchildren, I don’t see them growing, hugging and arguing. Some come to me every 15 days, some every three or four months, and some never.
I no longer work in the winter, I don’t bake cakes, I don’t dig up the garden. I still have hobbies and I like to read, but my eyes quickly hurt.
I don’t know how much longer, but I have to get used to this loneliness. Here at home, I lead group work and help those who are worse than me as much as I can.
Until recently, I read aloud to an immobile woman in the room next to me, we used to sing together, but she died the other day.
They say life is getting longer. Why? When I’m alone, I can look at photos of my family and memories I brought from home. And that’s all.
I hope that the next generations will understand that families are born to have a future (with children) and that they do not forget about the family even in old age.
Please don’t show this to my children.
Grandma Maria loves you.
