After my son convinced me to move into a nursing home, I wrote him notes every day, telling him how much I missed him. He never replied to a single one — until one day, a stranger revealed the reason and offered to bring me back to a real home.
When I turned 81, I was diagnosed with osteoporosis, which made it difficult for me to move without assistance. My condition also created challenges for my son Gleb and his wife Nina in taking care of me, so they decided to move me into a nursing home.
“We can’t look after you all day, Mom,” Gleb said. “We have to work. We’re not professional caregivers.”
I wondered why he suddenly treated me this way, since I had always tried to stay out of their way so as not to interfere with their daily lives. I stayed in my room and used a walker when I needed to get to another part of the house.
“I will sit quietly, I swear. Please don’t send me to a nursing home. Your father built this house for me, and I want to stay here until the end of my days,” I begged.
Gleb brushed me off, saying the house my late husband Sergey had built was “too big for me alone.”
“Come on, Mom,” he said. “Let Nina and me take over the house! Think of all the space — we could set up a gym and separate offices. There’s plenty of room for remodeling.”
At that moment, I realized his decision to move me to a nursing home wasn’t motivated by concern for me but by a desire to take possession of my house. It hurt deeply, and I struggled to hold back tears, realizing that somehow Gleb had become selfish.
“Where did I go wrong?” I asked myself that evening in my room. I had believed I raised a decent person, but it seemed I was mistaken. I never expected to be deceived by my own son.
Giving me little choice, Gleb and Nina moved me into a nearby nursing home where, they said, I would be under constant staff supervision. “Don’t worry, Mom, we’ll visit as often as we can,” Gleb promised.
Hearing this, I thought maybe moving to a nursing home wasn’t so terrible if they were going to visit anyway. I had no idea Gleb was lying just to ease his conscience.
Each day in the nursing home felt like an eternity. Though the staff were kind and it was pleasant to chat with other residents, I still longed for family, not a place full of strangers.
Without a phone or tablet, I wrote letters to Gleb every day, asking if he could come by or how they were doing. Not once did I receive a reply or a visit.
After two years in the nursing home, I lost all hope that anyone would come. “Please, take me home,” I whispered in my evening prayers, but after two years, I tried to convince myself to give up such expectations.
Then one day I was stunned when a nurse told me a man of about forty was asking for me at the reception desk. “Could it be my son has finally come to see me?” I exclaimed, quickly grabbing my walker and heading out.
When I approached, I had a big smile, expecting to see Gleb — but to my amazement, it was a man I hadn’t seen in many years. “Mom!” he exclaimed, warmly embracing me.
“Lenya? Is that you, Leonid?” I asked.
“It’s me, Mom. How are you? Sorry it took me so long to find you. I just got back from Europe and came straight to your home,” he said.
“To my home? Have you seen Gleb and Nina there? They put me in this nursing home a couple of years ago, and since then I’ve heard nothing from them,” I admitted.
Leonid looked at me sadly and asked me to sit down. We settled opposite each other on the couch, and he began to tell me about what had happened during the last two years while I was here.
“Mom, I’m sorry you’re hearing this from me. I thought you knew,” he said. “Gleb and Nina died in a house fire last year… I only found out when I arrived at your empty house.” He also said he discovered all your unread letters in the mailbox.”
I couldn’t comprehend Leonid’s words. Although I was angry at my son for his behavior, the news of his death shattered my heart. I cried all day for him and my daughter-in-law Nina.
Leonid quietly comforted me while I wept and couldn’t speak.
Leonid was a young man I had taken in. As children, he and Gleb were inseparable.
After Leonid’s parents died, he was raised by his grandmother in poverty, unlike Gleb, who had everything. I fed him, clothed him, and took him in as my own son until he left to study in Europe.
Leonid never returned after he found a well-paying job in Europe, and we lost touch. I never thought I would see him again until he came to the nursing home.
“Mom,” he said once I had calmed down, “you don’t belong in that nursing home. Will you let me take you home?” He said it would be an honor for him to take care of me.
I couldn’t hold back my tears anymore. Even though we weren’t related, this young man took me in when my own son had cast me out. “Will you really help me?”
“Yes, Mom. Don’t even ask. You made me who I am today. I’m nothing without you,” Leonid said, hugging me.
That evening, Leonid helped Galina pack her things and took her to his new home. Galina found that his large family welcomed her warmly. Her remaining years were filled with joy and the love of those who truly valued her.
