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From childhood, everyone remembers their mothers, and I remember my grandmother. It’s not that I don’t remember my mother, she was wonderful, like any mother.
But Grandma was an amazing thing.
When I was a child I only felt it, but when I grew up I began to understand it.
Now that I’m older, I realize it.
This woman, my grandmother, was ordinary, like fate and Orissa Bulgarian, – what others have experienced, this too. When the uprising broke out in the 23rd year, my grandfather grabbed his rifle one evening and was just about to melt quietly into the darkness, my grandmother, then a young woman with a two-year-old child in her arms, looked at him sadly from the doorway and only said:
– I can’t stop you, but, I swear – come back alive!
Grandfather saved himself, as if Fate protected him – he rubbed the pomegranates in police stations and went to jail until he was finally released.
Then the grandmother must have believed that her husband had come back alive, as she had sworn him…
He returned home alive, and his child is now grown.
It’s time to tell stories – for whole days and nights.
So the son followed his father’s path and when he became a student, he was already deeply convinced of the ideas that his father professed.
Yes, but then the fight was extremely fierce and when the police caught the student, they convicted him. The authorities acted feverishly – they quickly sentenced him to death, immediately carried out the sentence.
When a grandmother went to visit her arrested son and was handed a bundle of his clothes. She was amazed and asked:
– Did you kill him yesterday?
The officer on duty confirmed.
– So on the eighth of February? – the officer on duty confirmed again.
– I will also come to you on this day, son! – the mother swore and crossed herself.
– Please, God, help me!.. – she cried.
Then, over the years, every year on the eighth of February she expected to move to the other world and meet her son there – sentenced to death, shot.
Her living children began to hide the calendar, but she was always on that day ready for the meeting with her son, who was shot.
When I was a child, my parents would take me to see my grandmother during the day while they were at work, and I had the excellent opportunity to observe her.
One year, on this very day – the eighth of February, already decades after the shooting, she told me:
– Go out and play with the children outside, I’m going to die today. – he kissed me and pushed me away from him.
I shuddered and started, but did not go out into the yard, but stood by the wardrobe, from where I could watch.
I watched grandma die.
He died slowly, with dignity, as he lived.
I stared at her face – in an instant it lit up – had my already dead grandmother met her son? I don’t know, but her face remained like that – happy…
How Grandma managed to stop her vital processes on that very day, I still can’t explain to myself.
There is no scientific explanation.
But the mother soul cannot be scientifically explained.
Right?
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* Story by Stoyan VALEV
#Mothers #Soul #View #Info
