- Yul, well, and mail in our country KGB duck is written with a capital letter, and such important words - with a small one ?! - she was indignant, hiding scattering scrolls under the shawl. I only laughed, writing off her sermon on established religious beliefs.
And now, sixteen years later, having raised two sons to my feet and appreciating how difficult the profession “mother” is, I understand that Alyonka was actually right. At least, "Mom" and "Dad" I always write the only way, with the title!
... My parents divorced a long time ago. Dad lives with another woman. But our relationship with our father throughout all these years, thank God, has not changed! Galina Dmitrievna loves my sons as relatives. (Likewise, the Pope once adopted and raised her grandson). We often visit them, and on weekends we sometimes throw up our sons.
I do not rush to this woman at a meeting, I do not embrace in holidays, I do not share something intimate. But I know for sure: I can count on her at any time of the day! Only with her will my sons learn punctuality and honesty, iron will and indomitable energy. Such a Mrs. Thatcher. Even at 70!
And now - the anniversary. Somewhere six months before the celebration, she draws up a list of guests, calls out distant relatives, quietly puts aside money in order to impress us not in an old-fashioned chic table.
Going to the garden. Dad leaves us to meet in the ceremonial jacket.
Everything - in its own way: a brief exchange of news, seating of guests of honor, the first, second and third toast to the birthday girl, a wonderful grandmother and an excellent hostess.
And then she rises, somehow lonely looks at us and suddenly with undisguised excitement begins to pull at the tip of the luxurious stole:
- I, of course, thank you all, my dear! Thank you for postponing all the business, come here like this, on a weekday, right here. Thank! And you ... - she stumbles a bit. I look at her, puzzled. “Please call us at least sometimes.” We, the elderly, because nothing else is needed. Once a week, call or SMS: they say, alive and well. We will be glad…
Silence. I blink in fright and look at my husband. He quacks and, hastily grunting: "For the birthday girl - to the bottom!", Overturns the glass. Guests again restore the thread of conversation. I sit like a Chinese dummy, I answer something to my relatives, I spread aside a cat and children stuck together, mechanically I thump a salad in a plate. I don't even feel cognac! Things ... So much for the Iron Lady!
Once upon a time there was such an advertisement on TV: a small nest with chicks against the background of a noisy, bustling flock. “They grew up and forgot their parents. Do you remember? Call your parents!»
At that time, my mom and dad were alive and well, quite strict and demanding of me and always close by. Therefore, advertising somehow did not cling! The maximum that the chill ran from is a type of tiny, defenseless chicks. Well, that's all.
And here it is covered ...
But that was not all! Apparently, the Universe decided to arrange a large-scale strength test for me. Just a couple of days, waiting in the hospital the line of his therapist, I unwittingly witnessed someone else's drama.
A gray-haired woman was sitting next to me: she talked quietly with her neighbors, smiled at someone’s children and gently smoothed the referral from the doctor. There was a stuffy July evening in the courtyard, so the doors to all the rooms were open.
The woman came in and everyone in the hall heard:
- You need to take medicine daily. Buy immediately with a stock.
“I live in the village, I rarely go to the capital ...” the woman said quietly.
- Well, call the children - let them buy you everything.
“My daughter and I parted ...” the woman hesitated.
- Quarreled or what?
- Not. But we do not communicate ... And it is inconvenient to call me.
The old ladies loudly smacked their tongues and condemningly boomed. For some reason I wanted to squeeze myself into a chair. Well, okay, figs with you, unfamiliar, grown up and never learned gratitude pig! You don't want to call your mother - well, just bring her pills! Silently shove into the mailbox. Leave the neighbors. And do not communicate further, if conscience allows. That's just what will you do when you stay in this world all alone ???
That evening, with the whole family, we sat down to watch our favorite Smeshariki.
The eccentric inventor Ping finally waited for his iron child from space. He so wanted to hear how the iron man spent this year, that he had seen where he was. But Bibi ran away to his friends: first he had to chat with Krosh, then listen to Barash’s new poems, then swing on the swing with Nyusha, then make the ship with the Hedgehog, then ... And then it was time to fly away to the new planet, and the quivering Ping, gasping, ran into the dock, grabbing Bibi by the hand in parental terms:
- You write, son! At least sometimes. Although the mode of the day in a letter to write. I'll wait!!!
My son watched the credits and rode off to his room. Biting my lip so as not to blink, I stared at the wall. My husband once looked at me in confusion, sighed and hastily nodded his head.
Without saying a word, we reached for the tubes:
- Babu Lida dial!
- And you - dad!
We talked. We looked at each other. Breathed out. And they nodded again. That established another good tradition: on Saturdays call back parents. Let them listen to the successes of the grandchildren and our achievements.
In fact, it is not difficult. Just a few numbers ... And your parents will breathe easier!