However, only the night remained in the mind of the twelve-year-old when his father said “no.”
“Robert was waiting for the winter premium,” he continued. “I knew we would have a discount for factory workers. We paid almost half.”
I looked at my father.
“And you couldn’t say that?”
She shrugged.
“I probably could.
Mom started laughing in tears.
“Your father never knew how to explain things well.
Dad smiled for the first time, too.
Very few.
Then my mother pulled out the last document.
That was recent.
Notary writing.
My parents' house passed to the descendants so that my mother would be protected if my father died earlier.
At the same time, there was a power of attorney and a complete extract of savings.
Everything was organized.
“Why now?” I asked.
Mom looked at Dad.
Because Robert was diagnosed two months ago.
I was short of air.
What is the diagnosis?
Dad shook hands.
It was not something that killed him in a few days, but doctors diagnosed a serious heart problem. It was treated and it was possible to operate.
“I didn’t want to tell you before the anniversary,” he said.
I got angry immediately.
“Of course not! Because you never say anything!”
My voice rises.
“For forty years you have allowed us to believe that you are a tyrant!”
Dad looked at me calmly.
“I know.
“Why?”
His response silenced me.
“Because my reputation never seemed more important to me than your mother’s peace of mind.
I felt the tears build up in my eyes.
“But that’s how it seemed.
Dad looked down.
“That was my mistake.
That night, we sat down at the table until midnight.
For the first time, Dad told us about the money.
About the years when wages were low.
About inflation.
About how he moved his savings from one place to another so that they did not lose value.
On how he rejected risky investments.
On how he kept each receipt and each extract.
But he also shared his mistakes.
About moments when storage became control.
On the fact that, although my mother accepted the system, I had to give her more freedom.
“Good intentions don’t necessarily mean that all decisions are good,” the father said.
I didn't expect to hear that from him.
Mom looked at him.
“I had more to say, too. I let you judge him.”
Then he looked at me.
“Remember what I always told you?”
