I am 82 years old, have 4 children, 11 grandchildren, 2 great-grandchildren, and a 12 square meter room.
I don’t have a house or expensive things, but I have someone to clean my room, prepare food and bedding, take my blood pressure and weigh me.
You won’t hear the laughter of your grandchildren, you won’t see them grow up, hug or fight. Some come every 15 days, some come every 3-4 months, some never come.
In winter, no work stops, no cake is made, no garden is dug. I still am
I have a hobby, I like to read, but my eyes hurt quickly.
I don’t know why, but I have to get used to this loneliness. I lead group work here at home and help those below me as much as I can.
Until recently, he used to read aloud to the motionless woman in the next room, and we used to sing together, but he died the other day.
They say life is getting longer. Why? When you’re alone, you can look at family photos and memories you brought back from home. And that’s it.
I want the next generation to understand that a family is born with a future (with children) and that even in old age, one does not forget the family.
Don’t show this to my kids.
Grandma Maria loves you.
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