When Your Own Children Become Strangers: A Mother’s Story.

In my youth, full of energy and hope, I, Natalia Paredes, gave my entire life to my children. People around me would often warn, “Don’t give yourself entirely to them — save a little for yourself.” But I didn’t listen. Today, at 69 years old, I find myself alone, with no one to even hand me a glass of water. Those words now echo in my mind, and I deeply regret the choices I made.

My husband, Alejandro, passed away when our son was only four and our daughter six. Being left alone with two small children was a tremendous challenge. I had to work two jobs to make sure they had everything they needed. My mother helped me, but she used to remind me, “Children need a mother, not just their daily bread.” But who would have supported us if I had stayed home?

I tried to make up for their father’s absence by surrounding my children with care and indulgence. I thought that this would fill the void Alejandro’s death had left. My children grew up and started families of their own. I did everything I could to be the perfect grandmother to my grandchildren, continuing to give myself completely to my family.

Then one morning, I woke up unable to feel my legs. With great effort, I reached the phone and called my son. He answered, “Mom, I’m really busy right now, I can’t come.” My daughter didn’t answer at all. I called an ambulance, which came without question.

At the hospital, I was diagnosed with thrombosis in my legs. The doctors said the clots could break loose at any time, which could be fatal. I was facing a long treatment and strict bed rest. I begged my children to come visit. When they finally came, they said to me in the hospital room, “We have our own responsibilities — we can’t take care of you.”

My daughter explained that her youngest son was starting university and that my son’s wife had the flu. They both felt I’d be better off alone in the hospital. Such “important” reasons to leave their mother in such a vulnerable condition.

When I was discharged, I returned to an empty apartment. I didn’t even have the strength to prepare myself a meal. My neighbor, Ana Sánchez, offered to help me for a small fee. We became friends, supporting each other with our modest pensions.

Now, looking back, I understand that overprotection and spoiling are not substitutes for real love and respect. I failed to teach my children to value and respect the people who love them. In my youth, I sowed permissiveness — and in my old age, I reap loneliness.

To all parents out there, I say this: don’t lose yourselves entirely in your children. Don’t forget about your own life. Teach them love and respect — not just how to get what they want. What you plant in their hearts while they are young will be what you harvest from them in old age.