My son has always been my friend and my pillar throughout my life, but after his wedding we became strangers.
He was my constant companion, a goldenhearted boypolite, kind, always ready to help. Thats how he grew up and how he remained as an adult. Up until his marriage, we were inseparable: we met often, talked for hours about everything and nothing, shared our sorrows and joys, and supported each other, always within reasonable limitsI never intruded into his life more than necessary. Then everything collapsed when she entered his worldMarine.
For their wedding, Marine and Alexandre received from her parents a newly renovated oneroom apartment in the heart of Lyon. It became their little nest, their property. I was never invited over, but Alexandre showed me pictures on his phone: bright walls, brandnew furniture, a cozy atmosphere. After my husbands death I had no savings left, so I decided to pass almost all my jewelrygold chains, rings, earrings collected over the yearsto the young couple. I told Marine, If you want to melt them down, I see no problem. I wanted to help them, to support them at the start of 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 filled with cashher curiosity about the amount made me uneasy. On one hand, that trait might make a good wife; on the other, it meant I had to stay on guard. Nowadays many women see their husbands as wallets, spend his money as if it were theirs, then divorce, take half, and look for a new target. I dont want that fate for Alexandre, yet the worry eats 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 threw up her hands: 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. She spoke aloud, but I sensed the calculation in her voice. Meanwhile I lived in the house my late husband had begun buildingstill unfinished, with holes in the walls, freezing in winter because my pension cant heat it fully. Then Marine suggested, Sell your house, buy a studio, give us the remainder for a new apartment, and then well think about children.
Do you see what that means? She wants me, old and frail, to disappear while they take the best of everything. Perhaps theyd even push me out of that home and into a retirement house. At first I thought I might agreeif only they helped me financially once a month. Now? Never in my life! With someone like Marine you must stay vigilant; you can expect any trick.
After that conversation 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 charges. I held firm: The city is growing; in five to ten years houses will be worth more. My land is no longer on the outskirts; selling now would be foolish. One day I proposed a swap: they move into my house, and I live in their studio. After all, its the same, isnt it? Marine refused. She didnt like the idea of a house needing repairs and investment while I would live comfortably in their gifted flat. She craves comfort, even if my proposal is more beneficial. She is that way, and nothing can change it.
Then I fell seriously ill, bonedeep. Confined to bed, unable to risefever, cough, excruciating headaches. I called Alexandre, begging him to come, bring provisions and medicine. I knew the young couple had little time, but I lacked the strength to even boil water. I never imagined he would abandon everything to come. He arrived only the next day, handed me a makeshift Fervex powder, left an unwrapped, probably expired box of aspirin on the table, shrugged, and left. Fortunately a friend rescued me, bringing soup, medication, everything I needed. If she hadnt been there, what would have become of me?
My son was my light, my support all my life. I trusted him blindlyhe was more than a son, a friend, a part of me. The marriage erased all of that. We have become strangers, and I am powerless to change it. He is my only child, my love, my pride, yet now I see his heart no longer belongs to me. He chose her. Marine placed herself between us like a wall, and I remain on the other sidealone, abandoned, useless. Reason says the bond is broken. Its time for him to choosehis mother or his wife. The choice is as clear as day. Still, my heart hopes he will remember what I was to him, that he will return. Yet each day that hope melts like snow under a foreign sun.
My Son Was My Best Friend and Rock Throughout My Life, but After His Wedding, We Became Strangers.
