This time around 400 women shared their personal stories about the nature and the backbone of the mother-girl relationship.THE application filed by Zsuzsa Rбcz нrу and Gedeon Richter Plc.., who have already been expecting mothers in the day to say goodbye, have once again found it fascinating taboo: the need for absolute maternal love and acceptance is not enough to talk about big wives. Read Barbara Garai's review!
"I remember that I'm running down the stairs, the ground is almost fluttering beneath me, my heart is beating in my throat, my chest is heavy on me. I hear the doors close, I want iron gates, latches. My feet are fast, they carry me fast, they help my way, but I look farther, far beyond where my feet are few. I'm still running now, and years later. The dead and the hell. The one I loved and hated at the same time, who lived on the pieces of my childhood and tried to find a balance, failed and gave me an early adult choice.
If I close my eyes so I see before myself. Bags in hand in the kitchen, soup cooked, baked, baked, my favorites, unpacked, shaking trembling hands, waiting for my reaction, smiling, and starting to look like a normal mother, everything is like. Today it is, and for one day I am happy, relaxed, today I am the child and I wish him a day. It is impossible to live with addicts without sacrificing sacrifice. You have to give a piece of your soul, your heart. Teaching what you love, how you disappear, how you run out of humanity day by day, teaches you the skills you don't even need. To anger, to bear pain, to disappointment, to hatred. Every day you lose and battle, you fill the shelves of your soul with us, and if you let it, you will disappear completely. You can't learn these skills as a kid, you give them your innocence, and pack them with your childhood. But who wouldn't give anything to the mother's mother?
I'm 11 years old, my mom brings a cake to my bed, I have a birthday, I am 11 years old, when one night lies early in the bath, I find a letter in my wardrobe, says he does not want to live, takes medication, rescues, goes to hospital. Йl. I don't know how many times I call an ambulance in our lives, either because he wants to die or because he can only bear the burden of being drunk. In these cases, I do not want to wake you up, sometimes he sleeps for days. If he is awake, he shakes himself. Going to the hospital will be completely weekday. In the first few days he can't take care of himself there, since he's not nice here, just an alcoholic. I'll lay it down, stop it, cut off its rubbers. She's starting to recover, she's terribly sorry, she's never again told me she wants to get healed, and I do. I'll ask you to do it. Rehabilitation, a couple of weeks, maybe a month together, alone, with no alcohol. We laugh a lot. I call him every morning when I'm not with him. My heart is always beating, taking in the air, hoping, getting excited, knowing that three of them are rattling and picking up the phone, you lighten up with a cheerful voice. Alright, we've had a clear day. Then I call you the answer, I know I lost it again, I lost myself, twice, twenty times, I lost it, I am angry, I hate it because you do it with me. I gather it on the street or in the stairwell, I have to open the door, I have to come because I do not let it out of the apartment because it is ready to drink. Look out for it, but it's lying, trick, steal and cheat. I already know the hiding places in the apartment, I know the lies, but nothing changes. It's just time, and they're getting worse. His wit, his smile, his smile disappear. We don't laugh anymore.
Kцzben I meet a son, loves, helps a lot. In the last few years, we try the impossible together, but he gives up, asks me to let go of my mother's hand, because he doesn't bother to carry the burden, he gets frightened. I'm not angry, they come from a decent, nice family, and because of me, she's in a closed class, she lives in an apartment full of mom's impotence. What's natural to me is awesome for him. But it will remain.
The my mom is not there at the wedding, since I don't call her every day. They are not elbows, heels, yells at him. We want a baby, the doctors say, I can't, I really want to, though I'm afraid of what kind of mother I'm going to be, I'm afraid I can't give her everything she needs to be a happy child, a happy adult. We will have a baby flask, please get my mother one last time, help me, I really want this baby, take care of yourself, your granddaughter will come, be with us, be a grandmother.
We will speak on December 4, I have a good day, she's up, her voice is nice. I'm sick, I have a hard time carrying the pregnancy, and there's nothing left in me, damn it, I call it out, but it doesn't pick up. We will never speak again. On December 8, he dies, many drugs and more alcohol. After his spirit, his organization also gives up the fight.
So one year later, this morning my baby boy lies across my bed, next to my baby, he came out at dawn, utterly stalking their dad, sleeping, even breathing, beautiful. They fill every corner of my soul, die dies, this is the holiest love. I see them, I know everything will be fine. I'm happy at this moment. "
Barbara Garai нrбsaThis year's work has proved to be the most difficult so far. It turned out that with the mother-girl relationship we did not go for wasps, but rather for open fires. There have been many stories in which women are revered for their most secret family secrets, taboos. Their histories reveal what traumas we are able to go through, process, and that the injuries of childhood can be collected in adulthood, family habits and patterns can be changed. Our authors have been able to translate with great awareness their destiny and, for the next generation, do their utmost to ensure that their children and their children receive what many have been denied: the faithful accept. A new generation of women has grown up, who, in different roles, co-workers, mothers, and working women, has transformed destiny with an awareness that has barely been exemplified in the past decades. The transition of women's roles has begun, - said Zsuzsa Rбcz, the donator.
You can read the award winning stories here, click!