It's Easter and I'm alone, my son doesn't have half an hour to see me: I just wanted 5 minutes, and I got a cold message
There are stories that hurt not because of what happened, but because of what is missing. These are those quiet, family voids that are not visible from the outside, but are felt at every holiday, in every unanswered message, and at every table where someone is missing. When children grow up, relationships change, but the need for closeness never disappears - it just becomes quieter, but deeper. Today is Easter, and one grandmother is spending it alone. Not because she has no one, but because of the situation with her son.