Andrey frowned as he heard his mother’s hoarse voice over the phone.
“Mom, why are you breathing so hard?”
“I just caught a little cold, son. I’ve been coughing for a week — it just won’t let up.”
“Then go see a doctor! At your age, you can’t take colds lightly.”
“I did. The doctor said complications have started — it’s spread to my lungs. He prescribed bed rest for two to three months and constant care.”
A chill ran through Andrey. He immediately understood where this was heading.
“Listen, Mom, what exactly did the doctor recommend? Maybe it’s better to go to the hospital?”
“He says it’s better to be treated at home. But it’s very hard alone. I can’t even get up — my head is spinning, I have no strength at all.”
Valentina Petrovna fell silent, waiting for her son’s response. Andrey mentally calculated possible options: should he take his mother in with him? But Irina would definitely make a scene — she’s already unhappy about his mother’s frequent calls.
“Are Svetka and Oleg aware?”
“Oleg came by yesterday. He promised to think about it. And Svetlana… she works, and has little Maxim.”
“Alright. I’ll talk to them myself, we’ll figure something out.”
After the call, Andrey immediately dialed his sister.
“Svet, Mom is seriously ill. The doctor says she needs constant care.”
“Poor thing… What exactly is wrong with her?”
“A cold turned into pneumonia. Two to three months of bed rest, she can’t get up.”
Svetlana hesitated. She clearly understood her brother would now suggest splitting the duties among the family.
“Andryusha, I’d help, but I just can’t. I can’t quit my job — there’s a mortgage, and my husband is the only breadwinner. And Maxim is still little, he needs a lot of attention.”
“And what about me? I have a family and work too!”
“But you have Irina at home. Maybe she can watch over her?”
“Are you serious? She barely manages her own kids. And if Mom comes to us, the house will turn into hell. I don’t want her ruining my life.”
The conversation was beginning to sound like an argument. Svetlana hurried to end it:
“Let’s talk to Oleg. Maybe he can suggest something.”
Oleg listened silently. Andrey felt irritation growing from the pause.
“Well, say something at least!”
“Obviously, you want me to move in with Mom. Because I’m single and free.”
“What’s wrong with that?”
“I just don’t know how to care for sick people. Cooking, giving medicine, washing someone — that’s women’s work.”
“Then what should we do?”
“Let’s hire a caregiver. Or place Mom in a private nursing home — there they have care, doctors, everything first-class.”
Svetlana immediately agreed:
“That’s actually more reasonable. We won’t suffer ourselves, and Mom won’t be traumatized. Professionals will do everything right.”
Andrey thought it over and agreed. The suggestion seemed convenient and beneficial.
The next day, the children came to see their mother. Valentina Petrovna was lying in bed, pale, barely turning her head. She really looked sick.
“Mom, we talked it over among ourselves,” Andrey began, trying to speak gently. “You understand, everyone wants to help you, but each of us has our own circumstances.”
“What circumstances?” the woman quietly asked.
“I have business trips, Svetlana has a child and a job, Oleg is busy with repairs.”
“And what did you decide?”
“We can hire an experienced caregiver or arrange for you to stay in a good nursing home. They have meals, care, doctors nearby.”
Valentina Petrovna slowly shifted her gaze from one to another.
“So you want to get rid of me?”
“Mom, what are you saying!” Svetlana protested. “We want you to be well. To have professional care.”
“And you will come yourselves?”
“Of course!” the children answered in unison.
“Alright,” Valentina Petrovna said quietly. “Do what you think is best.”
After the children left, a neighbor, Tamara Ivanovna, came by.
“Valya, you look so down. What happened?”
The woman told her about the children’s plans. Tamara shook her head:
“What are they doing! Giving their own mother into strangers’ hands?”
“Maybe they’re right? Maybe it’s better there…”
“Not funny. No one will understand you like your own people. Listen, let me and Nina Semyonovna help you? She has plenty of free time now.”
“Tomochka, I can’t burden you. You don’t have to.”
“But aren’t the children obligated? And where are they now?”
That same evening, Tamara contacted Nina Semyonovna — Valentina Petrovna’s older sister. She was outraged:
“What do you mean — a nursing home? After all she’s done for them! Apartments, weddings, raising grandchildren together. It’s outrageous!”
“Let’s help. You come during the day, I’ll come in the evening.”
“Of course! No doubt about it.”
The next day, Nina came to Valentina Petrovna with a bag of groceries.
“Ninochka, why did you come?”
“To take care of my sick sister! Toma told me everything. This can’t be.”
“But the children want to hire a caregiver…”
“Am I worse than a caregiver? I’ve known you since childhood, I understand better than any stranger what you need.”
Nina immediately got to work: made broth, aired the room, changed the bed linens. In the evening, Tamara Ivanovna joined her.
A few days later, Andrey called to check how Mom was doing with the new caregiver.
“Son, I don’t need any caregiver. Nina and Tamara Ivanovna are helping.”
“Mom, isn’t it inconvenient for them…”
“Toma isn’t a stranger to me. We’ve been friends for twenty years. And Nina is my own sister.”
“But…”
“Andrey, I’m fine. Here the care and attention are real.”
Andrey was relieved. The problem resolved itself without spending money. He told Svetlana and Oleg the news. All three were pleased — fate seemed to have treated them generously.
“Great,” Svetlana said happily. “That means Mom has help, and we can calmly take care of our own business.”
Days passed as usual. Every morning Nina Semyonovna came to Valentina Petrovna: cooked breakfast, helped her wash up, tidied the apartment. After lunch, Tamara Ivanovna came — brought groceries, cooked dinner, stayed until evening.
The children called rarely, almost formally inquiring about their mother’s health. They came once a week, and then briefly. Oleg stopped by for half an hour, Svetlana brought her grandson for an hour or so, Andrey dropped in briefly on his way from work.
“Well, how are you, Mom?” they asked routinely.
“Fine,” Valentina Petrovna answered.
“Don’t Nina and Tamara Ivanovna let you down?”
“No, they manage.”
“All right. Well, we have to go.”
Valentina Petrovna lay watching. Watching as people, seemingly strangers, washed her clothes, bought medicine, cooked food. How Nina read aloud in the evenings, and Tamara Ivanovna shared the latest news.
And her own children thought everything was settled and they no longer needed to worry.
One evening, while brewing tea, Tamara Ivanovna thoughtfully said:
“Valya, when was the last time you updated your will?”
“A will?” Valentina Petrovna was surprised. “About five years ago. Why?”
“Just saying… Life shows who is worth what. Sometimes it makes sense to rewrite documents.”
Valentina Petrovna thought. The will stated that all property — apartment, dacha, savings — was divided equally among the three children. At the time, it seemed fair.
But now…
“Toma, do you think I should change something?”
“I’m not a counselor, Valya. I just think inheritance should go to those who are near, who care. Otherwise, some try, and others get everything.”
These words stuck in Valentina Petrovna’s soul for a long time. She started paying more attention to what was happening. To how Nina made broth every day, how Tamara Ivanovna brought her favorite candies, how both women supported her in moments of weakness.
And the children… the children continued living their own lives. Andrey called every three days, Svetlana once a week, and Oleg might not check in for two weeks.
A month later, Valentina Petrovna asked a doctor to come to her home. The doctor examined her and noted significant improvement:
“I see you have good care. In three or four weeks, you will be able to start getting up gradually.”
That same day, after Tamara Ivanovna left, Valentina Petrovna called a trusted notary.
“Anna Viktorovna, I need to rewrite my will.”
“What happened, Valentina Petrovna?”
“Just life. Can you come tomorrow?”
“Of course. How will you divide the inheritance?”
“I bequeath all property to Nina Semyonovna Petrova — my sister, and Tamara Ivanovna Sorokina — neighbor and friend. Equally between them.”
“And your children?”
“Let them take care of themselves. As they took care of me.”
Three weeks later, Valentina Petrovna finally stood on her feet. The doctor approved cautious activity but advised avoiding heavy loads.
That same day, her three children suddenly showed up. Apparently, a neighbor had informed them she was already walking.
“Mommy, it’s so great you’ve recovered!” Andrey said, hugging her. “We were so worried!”
“Worried?” Valentina Petrovna answered dryly. “And where were you all this time?”
“We were working, Mom. We thought you were being helped. That everything was fine.”
Svetlana also tried to look cheerful:
“Now we’ll visit more often, like before!”
“Like before?” Valentina Petrovna repeated. “Did you visit me often before I got sick?”
Oleg was silent, sensing the conversation might turn unpleasant.
“Mom,” Andrey decided to change the subject, “have you thought about what to do next? Now that you’re healthy, maybe think about moving?”
“Why?”
“Well, the apartment is big, it’s inconvenient for you alone. You could sell it, buy something smaller, and use the difference…”
“For what exactly?”
“For example, to help the children. I have a mortgage, Svetlana has loans, Oleg wants a car.”
Valentina Petrovna looked attentively at her son.
“Andrey, sit down. Everyone sit.”
The children frowned — there was a special confidence in their mother’s voice.
“I want to tell you some news. The notary came yesterday.”
“Why?” Svetlana stirred.
“To rewrite the will.”
Tension hung in the room.
“To rewrite?” Andrey asked slowly. “What’s to change?”
“I changed the list of heirs.”
“How changed?” Svetlana paled.
“The apartment, dacha, all savings will now go to Nina Semyonovna and Tamara Ivanovna. Equally between them.”
Silence filled the air.
“But they’re strangers!” Oleg was the first to react.
“Strangers? Nina is my sister. And Tamara Ivanovna is closer to me than you.”
“Mom, you can’t do this!” Andrey said. “We’re your children.”
“You are my children. But where were you when I was sick?”
“We explained — work, family, matters…”
“Nina and Tamara had their own matters too. But they never left me alone, not for a day.”
Svetlana started crying:
“Mommy, it’s not fair! We’re your own!”
“Love me?” Valentina Petrovna smiled bitterly. “During two months of illness Andrey came four times, Sveta — five, Oleg — three. And Nina was here every day. Tamara too.”
“But, Mom, we couldn’t just quit work,” Andrey tried to justify.
“Who worked when you were little? Who paid for your housing, arranged weddings, raised grandchildren? When father died, I raised you alone.”
“We’re grateful, Mom…”
“Grateful? Then why weren’t you around when I was bad? Where were you when I couldn’t even get up to go to the bathroom?”
The children were silent. Valentina Petrovna continued:
“You wanted to send me to a nursing home. Give me into strangers’ hands. And when Nina and Tamara took everything on themselves, you rejoiced. You got rid of a headache.”
“We thought it would be better for you,” Svetlana whispered.
“Better? Or more convenient for you?”
Andrey tried to ease the situation:
“Mom, we’re guilty. We admit it. But you can’t deprive us of everything for just one mistake!”
“Mistake? Andrey, when was the last time you came just like that? Not on business, not for help, but just to visit Mom?”
Andrey thought. He suddenly realized he almost always showed up when he needed something.
“And you, Svetlana,” Valentina Petrovna continued, “when do you call me just like that? Not to ask to watch Maxim?”
Svetlana was silent, unable to find words.
“And you, Oleg… You only show up when you need money.”
“But Mom, we’re your children!” Oleg cried desperately. “Blood of my blood!”
“Yes, you’re my children, and I love you,” Valentina Petrovna calmly replied. “But I bequeath the inheritance to those who proved it with actions. Because family is not just kinship, but support, care, and attention.”
“Mom, you can’t do this!” Svetlana sobbed. “We have loans, children, plans… We counted on…”
“On my apartment?” the mother interrupted coldly. “Counting on me dying so you’d get the inheritance?”
“No, not like that! We didn’t want you to die!”
“But you wanted the inheritance. And didn’t even try to be near when I was ill.”
Andrey stood up, trying to speak rationally:
“Mom, let’s not get emotional. You changed the will out of resentment. That’s wrong. Let’s wait a month and then discuss calmly again.”
“Andrey, I am absolutely calm,” Valentina Petrovna replied firmly. “My decision is final.”
“That’s unfair!” Oleg raised his voice. “Those women flattered you just to get the inheritance!”
“Flattered?” Valentina Petrovna looked at her son in bewilderment. “You think Tamara Ivanovna came every day after work to cook, clean, and buy medicine just for selfish reasons? That Nina dropped everything and cared for me for two months hoping for inheritance?”
“Well, they understood you’d leave them something…”
“And didn’t you know I was leaving everything to you? And how did you behave knowing that?”
The children realized they had fallen into the trap of their own logic.
“Mom,” Andrey spoke again, “but we can change. We’ll come more often, help you.”
“Change? Only because you found out about the will? Not out of love for your mother, but because of money?”
Valentina Petrovna went to the window:
“Children, I don’t erase you from my life. You’re my sons and daughter, and I love you. But the inheritance will go to those who earned it with deeds, not by birthright. To those who showed what a real family is — not in words, but in actions.”
“Mom, what about our children?” Svetlana asked through tears. “Your grandchildren?”
“And what about me? When I lay sick, none of you were near for weeks. Where were your children then?”
A heavy silence fell in the room. They understood their mother was right, but accepting her words was incredibly difficult.
Suddenly Oleg spoke:
“Mom, can I be honest?”
“Speak.”
“You’re right. We behaved like… I don’t know how. I didn’t even imagine how hard it was for you. I thought, she’s sick and recovering, Nina and Tamara Ivanovna are helping — so it’s okay.”
Valentina Petrovna looked surprised at her youngest son.
“And what now?”
“Now nothing can be changed in the will — I understand. But can I just come? Not for money, but because you’re my mom?”
At that moment, Valentina Petrovna’s heart softened a little.
“Of course you can, Olezha.”
Andrey and Svetlana exchanged looks. They saw that Oleg had chosen the right path, but repeating his words now might seem hypocritical.
“Mom, we’ll leave,” Andrey said. “We need to think everything through carefully.”
When the children left, Valentina Petrovna sat in her chair. The decision was not easy, but she felt she had done what was right.
Six months passed. Oleg really began to visit his mother regularly. He came just like that, talked about work, helped around the house. Gradually, warm and trusting relations were restored between them.
Andrey and Svetlana appeared rarely, and each of their visits was accompanied by hints about the “unfairness” of the will. But Valentina Petrovna remained firm.
“Mom, maybe you’ll leave something to Oleg?” Svetlana sometimes asked. “He changed.”
“Oleg changed as a son, but not as an heir. Family merits should be determined not by feelings, but by actions. Nina and Tamara Ivanovna deserve what they will receive.”
Tamara Ivanovna and Nina Semyonovna continued to care for Valentina Petrovna, although she was now healthy. They became her true family — not by blood, but by choice, based on love, attention, and devotion.
And the children… the children learned a lesson they would remember for life. One of them drew conclusions and began changing his attitude toward his mother. The other two remained convinced they had been wronged.
But Valentina Petrovna slept peacefully. She knew she had done the right thing, leaving the most precious to those who truly deserved it.