At our modest wedding, everyone was not looking at me, but at my mother-in-law. I was quite surprised myself when I saw her for the first time. She was 46 years old..

I understand that many people may not grasp what I’m saying. However, there may be those who think rationally, considering their children and grandkids as well as their own interests. I never expected to marry someone whose mother was so unconcerned about her children.Even when she married my husband’s father, I can tell that family values and traditions were not essential to her.

When her son, my husband, was very little, she didn’t even try to keep the family together. His father departed for another lady, most likely due to his wife’s disinterest, and she didn’t stop him, not even for her son’s sake. As a result, he was raised solely by his mother. He has few recollections of his grandmother because she rarely visited them. When I first saw my prospective mother-in-law, I was taken aback. She was 46 years old at the time, with bleached hair, a kilogram of mascara, and crimson lipstick.

Her character was, to say the least, difficult. Walking in high heels with long red nails. Her profession was clear in general; she worked in a beauty shop. We moved in with my husband’s mum after our small wedding. But there were no cozy family gatherings or tea parties. She went to work in the mornings because she only worked until noon. She constantly had plans for the second half of the day, such as workouts, girls’ nights out, parties, masterclasses, or meetings.

“Don’t you get tired of running around so much at your age?” I once asked her. “What age are you talking about?” she said. She rarely ate at home, save for coffee and a sandwich as a snack. And two years ago, a year after our wedding, I found out I was having a child, just around New Year’s. I wasn’t feeling well at the moment, so I lay down while she danced with her friends in the room.

My husband couldn’t figure out what was wrong with me, so he called his mother, who just told him, “Don’t worry, it will pass soon, maybe you ate something wrong.” There was no excitement. That’s how our grandmother is. Nothing changed once our child was born. Her grandson barely saw her as she went to work. She’d come by every now and then, mutter something to him, and then dash away. My mother lives a significant distance away, and getting to visit requires a lengthy train travel.

She would have made an excellent grandma, but her health prevented her from visiting. Nonetheless, I know she would enjoy spending time with her granddaughter, baking pies, and knitting socks. She is, by the way, only four years older than my mother-in-law. My father only divorced her after I was born, and she shielded our family for the sake of me and my older brother. She was never like my husband’s mother. My husband’s mother has deeply wounded me.

She shows no sympathy, compassion, or concern. She lives her own life, entirely concerned with herself. She should be thinking about children, aiding them, and experiencing their life at her age. I attempt to talk to my husband about it, asking her to come to us, spend time with our child, and allow us go out in the evenings, in the hopes that her grandmother’s instinct will awaken. But my husband refuses and refuses to discuss the subject. It’s a shame! This is the type of grandmother we have. However, old age is unavoidable. I’m curious how she’ll sing then.

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