I asked my daughter-in-law about grandchildren and what happened next left me speechless! 🤐🤯 As a devoted mother, I had worked hard in Spain away from my son for years in order to provide him with education, job and good living conditions! 🥺😪 One day, I eventually decided to come back and see his family, but I wasn’t ready for what would happen then! 🫣🫢 Little did I know that a simple question would ruin the family dinner and MY LIFE! 😳😩 I will share the continuation in this article! 👇
After nearly a decade of working abroad to support my son, I decided it was time to visit him. What should have been a typical family dinner quickly escalated into a heated argument. My daughter-in-law, in a fit of anger, shouted at me, stormed out, and slammed the door. All of this happened because of a simple question I asked. Little did I know, this question would unravel everything I thought I knew about my son’s life. Now, I’m contemplating leaving again, going back to Spain, and cutting ties with them forever.
I never expected to feel loneliness so intensely, but that night, it hit me harder than ever.
For over ten years, I’ve lived in Spain. It wasn’t for a better life for me – it was to secure a future for my son. I worked tirelessly, sometimes juggling multiple jobs, all to ensure that my son could study without worrying about money, and live a comfortable life. I sacrificed my own needs so that he could have a chance at a good education and career.
Time passed, and my son, Mikhail, graduated from a top university, landed a great job in IT, and got married. I even helped financially with their wedding and contributed generously toward their car.
“Mum, you’ve worked enough, it’s time to come back, take a break, you deserve it,” Mikhail often said.
But I couldn’t bring myself to return. My life in Spain, though modest, was stable. I had grown accustomed to the pace of life, the climate, the people. Yet, this winter, I finally decided to visit home.
Mikhail greeted me at the train station with his wife, Katya. She was pleasant enough—beautiful, polite—but always maintaining a distant formality. She seemed like she was talking to a stranger, not the woman who would one day be the grandmother of her children.
I had brought them some special treats from Spain, and I immediately set to work preparing dinner, cleaning, and making the evening special. But what followed still haunts me.
As dinner went on and the wine began to flow, I asked a question I thought was innocent:
“Katya, are you and Mikhail planning to have children? I’d love to have grandchildren while I still have the energy.”
Katya paused, set her fork down, and with a slight smirk, replied coolly, “And don’t you want to buy us an apartment?”
I didn’t quite understand at first.
“What did you say?”
She calmly repeated, “Well, you’ve worked so hard. Maybe you should help us with a place to live if you’re so invested in our lives?”
A lump formed in my throat. My heart sank.
“Are you serious? After everything I’ve done for your husband, this is how I’m repaid?”
Katya just shrugged and said, “We’re living in a rented house. You wouldn’t want your grandchildren growing up in those conditions, would you?”
That was the breaking point. I could feel the anger rise in me.
“I’ve done enough for you! Now, I’m living for myself!”
Mikhail, sensing the tension, tried to mediate, “Mum, Katya, please, that’s enough from both of you!”
But it was too late. Katya stood up abruptly, making her exit with a loud slam of the door. Mikhail looked at me with an expression of disappointment, as though I was somehow at fault for the situation.
That night, I couldn’t sleep. I couldn’t stop questioning everything: What have I been living for all these years? Why, after all my sacrifices, was I met with such coldness?
Maybe it’s time for me to return to Spain and never look back.
