My son has always been my friend and my support, but after he got married we turned into strangers.
I never imagined my child could change so dramatically under someone else’s influence. My only son, Alexandre, has always been a golden boycourteous, kind, always ready to help. He grew up that way and remained the same as an adult. Before his marriage we were inseparable: we met often, talked for hours about everything and nothing, shared our sorrows and joys, and leaned on each other. Of course, I respected reasonable boundaries and didnt meddle in his life beyond what was necessary. Everything collapsed when she entered his worldMarine.
For their wedding, Alexandre and Marine received a oneroom apartment in the heart of Lyon from his parents, freshly renovated. It became their little cozy nest. I was never invited over, but Alexandre showed me pictures on his phone: bright walls, brandnew furniture, a warm atmosphere. After my husbands death I was left with no savings, so I decided to pass 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 have no objection. I wanted to help them start their life together.
But Marine immediately revealed her true nature. A strongwilled woman, sharp as a blade. I noticed how she rummaged through the wedding envelopes stuffed with cash; her curiosity about the amount made me uneasy. That trait could make a good wife, yet it also meant I had to stay on guard. Nowadays many women treat their husbands as wallets, spend his money as if it were theirs, then divorce, take half, and hunt for a new target. I dont wish that fate for Alexandre, but the worry gnaws at me.
Six months after the wedding, Marine declared she didnt want children right now. Not now, she said, in this tiny apartment its impossible. She lifted her arms and added, What can we do? I dont want to take a loan, and we dont know when well afford a bigger place. Alexandre isnt a big boss yet. I heard calculation in her voice. I, meanwhile, still lived in the house my late husband had begun to buildunfinished, with holes in the walls, freezing in winter because my pension barely covered heating. Then Marine suggested, Sell your house, buy a studio, give us the rest for a new apartment. Then well think about children.
Do you see what that means? She wants an elderly, frail woman to give up her home while they take the best of it. Perhaps theyd even push me into a retirement home later. At first I considered agreeingif they helped me financially once a month. Now? Never! With someone like Marine you must stay vigilant; you can expect anything from her.
After that talk Alexandre visited me several times, subtly hinting that his idea wasnt so bad: Why do you need a big house? It would be easier in a flat with lower expenses. I held my ground: The city is growing; in five to ten years houses will appreciate. My land is no longer on the outskirtsselling now would be foolish. One day I proposed an exchange: they could move into my house and I into their studio. After all, its the same, right? Marine refused. She didnt want a home that needed repairs or investment while she could live comfortably in their gifted apartment. She craves comfort, even if my proposal benefits her more. Thats just how she is, and theres nothing I can do about it.
Then I fell seriously ill, down to the bones. Confined to bed with fever, cough, excruciating headaches, I called Alexandre, begging him to bring food and medicine. I knew the young couple was busy, but I lacked the strength to cookeven to boil water. I never imagined he would drop everything to help. He arrived only the next day, handed me a sachet of Fervex, left a box of unwrapped, probably expired aspirin on the table, shrugged, and left. Fortunately a friend came to my rescue, bringing soup, medication, everything I needed. If she hadnt been there, what would have become of me?
My son was my light and my support throughout my life. I trusted him blindlyhe was more than a son, a friend, a part of myself. Marriage erased all that. We became strangers, and I am powerless to change it. He is my only child, my love, my pride, yet now his heart belongs elsewhere. He chose her. Marine positioned herself between us like a wall, leaving me on the other sidealone, abandoned, useless. Reason tells me the bond is broken. Its time for him to decidemother or wife. The choice is as clear as day. Still, my heart clings to the hope that he remembers what I meant to him and returns. Each day that hope melts like snow under an alien sun.
My Son Was My Friend and My Rock Throughout My Life, But After His Wedding, We Became Strangers.
