My son had always been my friend and my rock throughout my life, but after he married, we became strangers.
I never imagined my child could change so drastically under someone elses influence. My only son, Alexandre, was a golden boypolite, kind, always ready to help. He grew up that way and stayed that way into adulthood. Until his wedding, we were inseparable: we met often, talked for hours about everything and nothing, shared our sorrows and joys, and supported each other. Of course, I respected reasonable boundaries and didnt meddle in his life more than necessary. Everything fell apart when she entered his worldMarine.
For their marriage, Marine and Alexandre received a oneroom apartment in the heart of Lyon as a gift from her parents, newly renovated. It became their little nest. I was never invited over, but Alexandre showed me pictures on his phone: bright walls, brandnew furniture, a cozy atmosphere. After my husband died, I had no savings left, so I decided to give almost all my jewelrygold chains, rings, earrings accumulated over the yearsto the young couple. I told Marine, If you want to melt them down, I dont mind. I wanted to help them start their life together.
But Marine revealed her true nature instantly. A sharpedged woman, formidable as a blade. I noticed how she rifled through the wedding envelopes stuffed with cash; her curiosity about the amount made me uneasy. On one hand, that trait could make a good wife, but on the other, it meant I had to stay on guard. Nowadays many women treat their husbands as wallets, spend their money as their own, then divorce, take half, and move on to a new target. I dont wish that fate for Alexandre, yet the worry gnaws at me.
Six months after the wedding, Marine announced she didnt want children yet. Not now, she said, in this tiny flat its impossible. She raised her hands: What can we do? I dont want to take out a loan, and we dont know when well afford a larger place. Alexandre isnt a big boss yet. She spoke aloud, but I heard the calculation in her voice. I, meanwhile, lived in the house my late husband had begun to build, still unfinished with gaps in the walls. Winter brought a biting coldmy pension barely kept it warm. Then Marine suggested, Sell your house, buy a studio, and give us the rest for a new apartment. Then well think about children.
Do you understand what that means? She wants an elderly, frail me to disappear while they grab the best of everything. Perhaps they would even push me into a retirement home. At first I thought I might agreeif they helped me financially once a month. Now? Never in my life! With someone like Marine you must stay vigilant; you can expect every trick she can devise.
After that conversation, Alexandre visited me several times. He subtly hinted that his idea wasnt so bad: Why do you need a big house? An apartment would be simpler, with lower costs. I held my ground: The city is growing; in five to ten years the houses will appreciate. My land is no longer on the outskirts, selling now would be foolish. One day I proposed an exchange: they would move into my house, and I would live in their studio. After all, its the same thing, right? Marine refused. She didnt like that the house required repairs and investment while I would enjoy a hasslefree apartment they gave us. She demands comfort, even if my offer is more advantageous. Thats how she is, and theres nothing I can do about it.
Then I fell seriously ill, bonedeep. Confined to bed, unable to risefever, cough, excruciating headaches. I called Alexandre, begging him to bring food and medicine. I knew the young couple had little time, but I lacked the strength even to boil water. I never imagined he would abandon everything for me. He finally arrived the next day, handed me a homemade Fervex powder, left an unwrapped, probably expired box of aspirin on the table, shrugged, and left. Fortunately a friend rescued me, delivering soup, medication, everything I needed. Had she not been there, what would have become of me?
My son was my light and my support all my life. I trusted him blindlyhe was more than a son, a friend, a part of me. Yet marriage erased everything. We are now strangers, and I cannot change that. He is my only child, my love, my pride, but now his heart belongs elsewhere. He chose her. Marine placed herself between us like a wall, leaving me on the other sidealone, abandoned, useless. Reason says the bond is broken. Its time for him to choosehis mother or his wife. The answer is as clear as day. Still, my heart clings to the hope that he will remember what I meant to him and return. Each day that hope melts away like snow under an unfamiliar sun.
My Son Was My Best Friend and Rock Throughout My Life, but After His Wedding, We Became Strangers.
