When I was young, my grandparents lived in a village on the gold pit of the eastern part of our homeland. They were young when Cole appeared. He also worked on this search. When he saw his grandmother, he approached his grandfather and said:



“Genka, you can kill and beat me, but I fell in love with Alla. What you want to do, and know that," his grandfather then pulled him, then they sat down and drank all night. And in the morning...In general, Cole became a friend of our family. All family holidays are around, and I’ve always said, “I love her, I can’t! “”



But he did not do anything. He lived in a neighboring house, always helping with homework. My mother was my friend and taught her life. Like my grandfather.



After 17 years, my grandfather died. My grandmother burned and burned. Three years later, they moved together with Kolya and began to live together. On the other hand, Cole's uncle smoothed his cheeks at family evenings and said, "I've been waiting for my love for 17 years" - and looked at his grandmother with love. I was small and didn’t understand anything. Uncle Cole loved it.



After a while, my mother left with me, my father with us. He was a very walking man. My grandmother went to the store. He raised his hand on his mother even when she was pregnant. He soon left the family, and well. I have never paid any alimony, I have never participated in my life. My mother herself.



It was hard in the new city. There was no money for bread. My mom gets the money in 3 days, no one can borrow it. She was saddened by what was left at home. Whether it was from pain or anything else, I don’t remember. I remember that the little boy understood it. He never asked for toys or sweets. I saw a tired mother coming from work. I cooked her dinner when I was in the first class.



I cooked badly, I now understand. There was less tea. But my mom always kissed and said, “Thank you!” He ate with pleasure and looked at me with love. And I was happy. I wanted to grow up and help her. Make sure that there is no misfortune in her life.



Then a man appeared in her life. Not so... a man! I remember the 90s. He had a Mercedes 124, always slippery and shiny. Always dressed and crazy. I took my mother from work every day and brought her home. with sweets and fruits. My mother once said that she hadn’t eaten praise for a long time (sweetness so eastern). The next day he brought a whole container...and asked friends from Turkey to send it by plane. have sent.



There were 1000 such situations. Gradually we started living together, I always called him Uncle (name). He never pretended that I would call him a father. My upbringing was given to my mother, kept carefully and sometimes uncomfortable. But he taught me... male things - repair, care for a woman, the ability to hold a blow, fishing. It was a fucking healthy time.



When I was 14, my mother died. That...I’m not going to explain how much the world turned around at that moment. With our whole family. My father brought me up alone. It was hard, he was strict. But the best. He was my daddy.



Unable to withstand the death of my daughter, my grandmother begins to drink without stopping and in two years burns and dies too. I remember standing on their graves. They were buried together. I, Uncle Cole (I called him grandfather) and grandfather (father). We are strangers to each other. There was no one closer to us.



Many years have passed, his father has gray hair), his grandfather writes reports that he is still pulling up ten times...and says that he has no one closer to us. I am an adult and I have a beautiful wife.



My father remained a single. When I come to him, he says he loves my mother still, as on the first day of meeting. Grandpa is alone too. He said that after his grandmother, any woman for him was like plastic: “Allah, she was real. I waited for 17 years, and she has now to wait for me. Genka also wait, I didn’t hurt her!”



And I... As a young man, I concluded that blood bonds are nothing in this life. I was raised and raised by two strangers. My grandfather and dad. I still have not to deceive them.



Thank you, it looks more like a scratch. It was hard for me to write this because it was an intimate part of my life. Without tears, I can’t remember it. He wanted to speak. Love those around you!