Women s share англ

Expectation. Waiting was a big part of her life. At first, in high school, she was waiting for his eyes. Then, with a sinking heart, every date with him. When he entered the military school, with impatience, each of his arrival. Strong, confident, handsome. He had firmly taken a place in her heart since her youth, leaving no chance for anyone else. With him she always felt themselves quietly.  She was happy with him. But for everything in life you have to pay.  And happiness. She paid. Paid sleepless nights when he was on duty, paid with their experiences, paid a long wait for the next meeting. Sometimes a very long wait. But he always came back. He came back with a smile and a huge bouquet of flowers. Hugging her and kissing her, said:”I'm home, it's for you."  These moments were for it the biggest reward for its civic participation. And then in its life appeared a small, constantly screaming, joy. And the loneliness was gone. It was replaced by anxiety, constantly growing, painful concern for the life of her husband, because a year, gave her son, along with him was presented and Afghanistan. And eight months later, pain and sorrow. This time on his return he was not given flowers. Silently, clenching his bunched in the muscles…
The first few months after the funeral held for her like a fog. Only through the son she was able to gradually recover from the loss. The child consumed all her time. And only at night, when he fell asleep, the loneliness returned and choked the tears that came. But she learned to fight it – she started Smoking. Smoke, relieving pain, calmed. Many nights she could spend with a cigarette and a Cup of coffee on the empty kitchen before her returned waiting. Waiting for the evening when she will finally be able to pick up her son from the kindergarten. Then, there was the expectation of his return from school, waiting for the first sporting success. A lot of water had flowed away before her life got better, and she stopped spending long nights talking to the photo. All her motherly love, all her soul, she gave to her son. No, she didn't spoil him, because life didn't spoil her. However, he always felt the constant care of his mother and grew up loving, intelligent, beautiful young man, pleasing her heart.  She made a firm decision that he would become a soldier, but when he finished his school, came to her again, waiting.  The anticipation of his visits to the vacation visits of the same beautiful, confident, strong, as once his father. And every time she met him, she thought to herself how his uniform suited him. Every time he came back, he burst into the house with a young wild wind, carrying a huge bouquet of flowers in front of him and kissing her cheek, saying: ”MA, this is for you.” And she was happy again. And after each check-out again was waiting for him. Then he got that his appearance brought to her once again waiting. In her house again waiting. The expectation of a quick wedding, then the expectation of a grandson. All my life. Expectation. Expectation. Waiting ... " Yeah, that's probably how I'm going to finish this book. Girl, grandchildren – very nice” – made pometochki in Notepad. The sun had almost set. It was another warm, windless spring evening in her life.  "Well, it's time to go home,” she thought, and, hiding a gray strand of hair under her handkerchief, she rose from the bench. The last time businesslike inspected she and, saying, carefree smiling from a photo of a young Lieutenant: "I will Come in a week. Goodbye, son’’ –  slightly hunched, she slowly walked to the exit of the cemetery, towards, waiting for her at the entrance gate, loneliness.                               
                Alexander Sluka
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