After twenty years spent with my daughter, her husband, and seven grandchildren, I feel I’ve reached my breaking point.
I’m 65 years old, and while many people might envy me for having such a large family, for me it’s an endless burden.
My home is always filled with noise and children’s shouts, and my daughter Helena doesn’t seem to realize how difficult it is to deal with so many kids.
When my sixth granddaughter was born, I had to have a serious talk with Helena.
I never imagined that, at 35, I would have to talk to my daughter about contraception, but at the time it seemed necessary.
Unfortunately, shortly after that conversation, the seventh child was born, and I began to feel like the situation was spiraling out of control.
The house my husband and I built has only five rooms, and now nine people live in it.
My son-in-law works on our land and considers himself a farmer, while my daughter helps him with everything. However, the entire responsibility for caring for the children falls on me.
I spend all day in the kitchen, cooking for this huge family.
Children grow up, their needs increase, and nobody wants to eat leftovers; there should always be something fresh.
I longed for a break, especially after the birth of my sixth granddaughter, but life took a different turn.
For some time now, I’ve been in touch with my brother, who lives alone. His daughter went abroad, and he needed company, especially when his health problems began.
One evening he asked me to visit him. Of course, I was worried about him, but I can’t deny that I was also excited by the idea of escaping the routine for a while.
During my vacation at my brother’s house, I remembered how much I love to read, listen to music, and watch movies.
For the first time in many years, I had time just for myself. I could finally enjoy the retirement I so richly deserved, instead of waiting for my grandchildren to grow up.
Now, however, my daughter calls me and asks me to come home because she can’t manage the children on her own. I don’t know what to do.
On one hand, I feel I should go back, but on the other, I don’t want to give up the freedom I’ve longed for for so many years.
I don’t know how to tell them, but I’m exhausted from giving everything, and I want them to finally learn to take care of themselves.
What should I do? Should I go back and plunge into chaos again, or should I start living for myself?
