Mom, where are you?” Lena exclaimed, noticing the empty apartment and the absent look in her little brother Vanechka’s eyes, who had just come home from school.

“She’s gone. Didn’t answer her phone, and there’s no note,” added Vera from the doorway, Lena’s older sister, who had also stopped by to visit their mother.

They walked through the rooms but found no sign of their usual image of Mom: the neat house slippers by the sofa and the knitting in the armchair were untouched. On the table in the hallway lay only a newspaper with travel advertisements.

Suddenly, Vanechka, glancing into the kitchen, shouted:

“Look, here’s a brochure about an excursion to the neighboring city… Maybe Grandma has gone there?”

Lena and Vera exchanged puzzled looks. “How is it – Mom on an excursion? She never used to leave without a word!”

But that very day they were about to learn that their mother had long ceased to be the quiet pensioner always ready to sit with the grandchildren and help out around the house.

Just a year ago, their mother, Galina Vasilievna, had ceremoniously retired after many years working at the factory. The family had gathered around a large table – Lena, Vera, their husbands, and the grandchildren. Everyone congratulated her and joked, “Now, Mom will finally be free and can help take care of the grandchildren, cook soups, and drive them to their activities.”

Galina Vasilievna smiled as she accepted the flowers. She truly loved helping out. Yet inside, a strange protest began to form: “Do they really see my retirement only as a signal that I’m now an endless nanny and housekeeper?”

At that time she brushed off the thought, believing that her children certainly wouldn’t be overstepping…

Time went on. From the very first days of retirement, requests began pouring in from her daughters:

“Mom, could you pick up Vanechka from his extended care after lunch?”

“Mommy, my husband and I have a corporate event today – can we leave your granddaughter to spend the night with you?”

Soon more were added:

“Mom, please make us borscht; we’re stuck at work until the evening.”

“Mom, iron these shirts – I don’t have any time at all.”

Galina Vasilievna tried not to refuse because she loved her family. But each day she felt that her own time, interests, and desires were being sidelined. She longed for little things: reading a book, visiting a museum, or going for a walk with friends. Yet everything was always postponed “for later.”

Her children often explained her busyness like this:

“Mom, you’re retired, you have plenty of free time, and we’re young, working, with mortgages and loans… Help us, it’s only natural!”

Sometimes Galina herself wanted to say, “And what about me? Don’t I have the right to rest, to pursue my own interests?” But she held back, afraid of hurting anyone. She thought, “Maybe retirement really means that I’m always ‘available for family needs’…”

Inside, however, fatigue, dissatisfaction, and the feeling of being seen as “unpaid hired help” were growing.

One day, Galina Vasilievna was late for an important doctor’s appointment – because Vera had unexpectedly said, “Mom, please watch the little one; I rushed out of the house and didn’t have time to call the nanny.” In the end, Mom agreed and missed her appointment. But that evening, when she mentioned, “I missed my appointment because of that,” Vera waved it off: “Oh, Mom, there are plenty of doctors, and what was I supposed to do?”

Inside Galina something snapped: “So my appointment is trivial, but your business is more important?” The words were never spoken aloud, yet the hurt took root.

After only six months of retirement, Galina Vasilievna found herself overwhelmed: the grandchildren depended on her, the household chores of her daughters, and sometimes even minor “errands” from the daughters’ husbands – buying building materials, paying bills… No one ever asked what she herself wanted.

One day, a neighbor, Aunt Valya, asked:

“Galya, why are you rushing so hard for the children? They’re just taking advantage of you.”

Galina replied:

“Oh no, they’re all busy… But to be honest, I’m tired.”

“Then tell them you need a break!”

“Oh, they wouldn’t understand,” Galina shrugged. “They think that because I’m retired I ‘can do everything.’”

Then the situation reached its peak. Lena asked Galina to pick up her grandson from music school, Vera asked her the same day to look after her daughter in the evening, and even a son-in-law called: “Galina Vasilievna, could you stop by the post office and pick up my parcel?”

At that moment, an exhausted Galina shouted, “I can’t tear myself in two!” To which the family retorted in unison, “But of course you can – we count on you!” And, most hurtful of all, no one said “thank you,” each taking it for granted.

That evening, after returning home, Galina wept: “Maybe I retired, but I didn’t retire into slavery!”

The next morning, more requests came from her children. And suddenly, Galina could no longer bear it: a sudden emotional outburst. When Lena called with yet another “Mom, I need you to…” Galina interrupted:

“Lena, I retired, not become a slave! Remember that!”

It was like a thunderclap. Lena fell silent, stunned: “Mom, what do you mean…?” But Galina was already done: “I can’t be your free maid anymore. Figure it out yourselves, I’m sorry!” And she hung up.

She couldn’t believe her own ears that she had finally spoken out what had been building inside. Yet she felt a sense of relief.

That same day, Vera, Lena, their husbands, and even the eldest grandson Vanechka arrived at Galina’s home. They sat at the table where Galina made tea. “Mom, what’s going on? Are you alright? Why did you rebel?” Lena blurted.

Galina sighed:

“Yes, I’m fine. I just can’t keep sacrificing myself. I love you, but I didn’t sign up to be your full-time nanny, courier, or cook. I want to live my own life.”

The family stared in shock. Suddenly, a son-in-law blurted, “But… you always said you were ready to help!”

“Yes, help – but not live solely for your needs,” Galina replied firmly. “I want to walk, meet with friends, go to my doctor on time, and take excursions. I have the right to leisure, not just ‘pick up Vanechka, feed Mashka, and buy something else…’”

Everyone was dumbfounded because no one had expected such a stern declaration.

Lena began to cry, “Mom, we thought it wasn’t hard for you! And we work… if you refuse, we’ll have to hire a nanny!”

Vera added, “Yes, Mom, and who will take my daughter to gymnastics if I’m on shift?”

Galina felt the pain of their bewilderment, yet she remained determined:

“Hire a nanny, or sort it out with your husbands. You’re all adults. I am not your property.”

It was harsh, but Galina knew that otherwise they would never understand.

The discussion went on for a couple of hours. The grandchildren sat aside, listening at the edge of their hearing. The adults tried to play on her sympathies: “Mom, it’s not too hard for you!” “We’re your family!” But Galina answered, “I am a family member – yes, but I also have my own life. I’m 62; I don’t want to spend the rest of my years running after your needs.”

In the end, the children had no counterarguments; they left, feeling hurt and misunderstood. Galina remained, tired yet resolute. “This had to be done,” she whispered to herself.

In the following days, her daughters stopped calling. Galina felt a mix of anxiety and freedom: “Have they really excluded me?” Yet secretly she rejoiced – no more endless “I need you, I need you…” demands.

She decided to take charge: she signed up for a bus excursion to the neighboring city (the very one mentioned in the travel ad in the newspaper), strolled through museums, enjoyed lunch in a cozy café, and even met a couple of fellow pensioners who had decided to travel. Suddenly, she rediscovered her zest for life.

That very day, Lena and Vera first discovered the empty apartment that had been the starting point of our story. Arriving at their mother’s home (hoping, perhaps, to persuade her to take care of the grandchildren), they found only a note with a brief message: “Gone on an excursion. I’ll be back in the evening. Galina.”

“Mom just left… without us?” Vera exclaimed, astonished. “That’s never happened before!”

“Yeah, and she didn’t even answer her phone,” sighed Lena. “And now we’ve got another problem: who’s going to pick up Vanechka?”

Both realized that Mom was no longer in “24/7 at your beck and call” mode.

That evening, Galina returned, pleased and with flushed cheeks from all the impressions. She found Lena and Vera sitting in her kitchen. Both looked upset.

“Mom, we were waiting for you. At least tell us where you went?” Lena said, a tinge of reproach mixed with curiosity.

“I visited the museum of wooden architecture in an old village,” Galina replied with a smile. “It was wonderful. And I also saw the river embankment in another town… so many impressions!”

Vera shrugged, “And we had to pick up our nephew from his class, even though you always helped… We had to organize everything ourselves.”

Galina nodded:

“See, you managed. I told you, you could.”

Lena sighed:

“But it’s so unusual for us… We always thought you’d be right there to help.”

Galina patted her daughter’s shoulder:

“Understand, I retired, not to be a slave. I’m ready to help sometimes, but I won’t sacrifice my own time and desires completely. I hope you learn to plan your lives without constantly relying on me.”

Both daughters fell silent, absorbing the gravity of her words.

Thus began a new phase. The daughters, albeit with some hurt, started to hire a nanny for the children and arranged for their husbands to share the responsibilities. In the beginning it wasn’t easy – sometimes Lena complained, “Mom, a nanny is expensive and not as good as you.” But Galina would only say, “That’s your choice; you decide how to raise them.”

Gradually, they got used to it. Of course, the grandchildren missed their grandmother, but she still invited them over from time to time – on her own schedule, when she felt like it, not by mandate.

Freed from the constant demands, Galina Vasilievna began to seize new opportunities: she attended free lectures at the community center, joined a Nordic walking club, and occasionally went on resort trips with an excursion group of pensioners. For the first time in many years, she felt entitled not only to care for her family but also to care for herself.

A neighbor, Aunt Valya, rejoiced for her:

“Good for you, Galya. Finally, you can breathe freely.”

Galina smiled: “Yes, I’ve come to understand that even in retirement one can enjoy life.”

One day, Vera invited Galina to a café “just to talk.” There, Vera confessed:

“Mom, forgive us. Lena and I probably went too far, overloading you endlessly. We just assumed you loved being with the grandchildren. We never thought you’d want something different.”

Galina listened intently, holding her hand:

“Dear, I love the grandchildren. But that doesn’t mean I have to completely forget about my own interests. I want to walk, meet friends, and travel while I still have the energy. And I’m glad you understand.”

Vera nodded:

“I understand. I’m still learning to manage on my own, but I see: everyone has their own life. I don’t want you to feel like a slave.”

Galina smiled, feeling tears of relief well up:

“Thank you, dear. Everything will be alright, you’ll see.”

A few months later, Lena organized a family lunch in honor of Galina’s birthday. Both daughters, the grandchildren, and the sons-in-law attended. This time, no one discussed how to burden Grandma with tasks; instead, everyone thanked her for her love and care and wished her happiness.

Lena raised a toast:

“Mom, I’m grateful that you taught us a lesson: everyone has the right to their own life. I wish you joy in retirement – but without slavery!”

Everyone laughed, and Galina, smiling, replied:

“Thank you, my children. I will always help you, but now – without self-sacrifice. This is a new phase for me, too.”

When everyone had left that evening, Galina, after putting away the dishes, sat by the window. The phone rang; a friend was inviting her on a day-trip to a nearby nature reserve. Galina gladly agreed, “Yes, of course, when?” – and she marked it in her calendar.

She thought to herself: “How different things could have been: if I hadn’t found the strength to say ‘no,’ I would have been worn out. But now I choose when to help and when to live for myself. And no one will ever again take me for granted as their nanny.”

She sighed with a smile, “Yes, I retired, not into slavery. And now the whole family understands that.”

Since then, Galina Vasilievna found her balance: she gladly spends time with her grandchildren, but on her own terms. Her children, seeing how she had blossomed, no longer pressure her with “you must!” Instead they ask, “Mom, can you do it? Don’t you have other plans?”

Neighbors remarked that Galina was smiling more often and complaining less about her health. After all, the feeling of freedom and self-determination gives strength. And when someone asks for her help, she agrees willingly—if it doesn’t interfere with her own plans.

And so, as she packed her bag for yet another excursion, Galina suddenly recalled the moment when she had shouted, “I retired, not into slavery!” Yes, her relatives were stunned then. But now everyone understood that retirement isn’t a sentence; it’s a new chance to live fully. And Galina has embraced that chance to the fullest.”