There is a dacha not far from Lake Ladoga on the Road of Life, where I used to spend a lot of time since I was born. We used to go there with my mother. She loved flowers, the garden, and watching movies in the evening. Summer is over. We returned home late in the evening, as my mother asked me to.My son and I were not at home for about two months. She told me to get out and not go into her room. I was behind the wall and didn't dare to come in, but I had to. She had cancer. In the morning my mother was gone. Almost 8 years later my son and I went there again. The atmosphere of this place no longer weighed on me. I let my guilt go, thanks to my son and my experience as a mother. Sometimes you need to understand and accept the feeling of love for those who have caused a lot of pain, and sometimes you need to allow yourself to be angry at those whom you loved the most. I was angry. For all the decisions I made without my will, for restricting my freedom of choice, for total control over my life. Violent care gave to me only unconfidence in making decisions. There were several important moments when I should have taken an action and that I can't and will never forgive myself. One of these unmade decisions was to spend the last days of the life of a loved one, looking after her, giving her all the love and care, holding her hand and looking into her eyes. Now, coming to Lake Ladoga, I look at the big water, monumental, vast... And I see in it the global time, in which human life is worth nothing, and the only thing that can be taken from it is the will of the person himself. Raising my son, I often dive into awareness of his personality, which is not mine continuation, and the main thing that I want to give him is my unconditional love and freedom to live his life. An opportunity that is given only once. And that I want to give to myself too.