The Waiting of Mrs. Julia…

Mrs. Julia sits by the window of her small, modest cabin. Her tired gaze repeatedly turns toward the door. She waits, day after day, hoping that one day it will open, and in the doorway, the one she carried in her womb, for whom she sacrificed so much, and to whom she gave endless love, will appear.

But the door remains closed. The days pass, the weeks and months follow, and silence becomes her eternal companion.

Mrs. Julia understands. Life goes on, children grow up, form their own families, chase their dreams. She doesn’t blame him for that. Wasn’t it for this very reason that she worked day and night, forgetting herself, so he could have a better future? Wasn’t it in the name of his happiness that she gave up so many things?

But still, she wonders: is there no space for her in this future? She doesn’t dream of gifts, doesn’t need expensive things. What she longs for, with all her heart, is to hear his voice, feel the warmth of his hands, know that he hasn’t forgotten her.

Mrs. Julia remembers the sleepless nights when he had a fever, and she prayed with all her might for the illness to pass. She recalls the times when she went without food so he could have a full table. She remembers the worn shoes she wore for many years because she could only afford to buy new ones for him.

And now, sitting in silence, alone in her home, she wonders: does he remember all of this?

She doesn’t hold a grudge. A mother’s heart doesn’t know offenses. She only knows how to love, even when she receives only silence in return.

But the pain, ah, the pain doesn’t go away. It tightens her chest like a firm cord, especially on those nights when the darkness outside becomes so dense, and the loneliness becomes too heavy to bear.

She doesn’t ask for much. Just one thing: that he comes. That he looks into her eyes and says that he still loves her. That she can feel, even for a moment, that all those years of love and sacrifice were not in vain.

But instead of words, there is only silence. Instead of footsteps at the door, only the sound of the wind.

Mrs. Julia continues to wait. Because a mother never stops waiting. 💔