**Diary Entry**
I never thought Id end my days behind a strangers gate, watched over by nurses, surrounded by souls abandoned by their own children. I believed I deserved betterrespect, warmth, a little peace. After all, Id worked my whole life, provided for my family, built my world around my only joymy wife, Eleanor, and our daughter, Harriet.
With Eleanor, we shared over thirty years, inseparable as two peas in a pod. After she passed four years ago, the house grew cold, too quiet. My only comfort was Harriet and my granddaughter, Lily. I helped however I couldbabysat, gave part of my pension for groceries, looked after things when Harriet and her husband were busy. Then, everything changed.
Harriet started eyeing me with irritation when I lingered in the kitchen. My cough annoyed her. *”Dad, youve had your timelet the rest of us live!”* became her refrain. Talks of a *”comfortable care home with doctors and telly”* grew frequent. I resisted.
*”Harriet, this is my flat. If youre cramped, go stay with your mother-in-law. Shes alone in her three-bed.”*
*”You know we dont get on. And dont start this again!”* she snapped.
*”You just want the flat. Instead of pushing me out, earn your own way!”*
She called me *”selfish,”* threatened to *”sort it out.”* A week later, I packed my bags. Not because I wanted to, but because I couldnt bear feeling like a stranger in my own home. I left without a word. Harriet beamed. She nearly carried me to the door herself.
At the care home, I got a narrow room with a window and an old telly. I spent my days in the garden, under the sky, among others forgotten like me.
*”Did your children put you here too?”* my bench neighbour asked one day.
*”Yes. My daughter decided I was in the way,”* I said, blinking back tears.
*”Same. My son chose his wife. They kicked me out. Im Margaret.”*
*”Edward. Pleasure.”*
We became friends. The pain felt lighter shared. A year passed. Harriet never called. Never visited.
Then one day, as I was reading, a familiar voice startled me.
*”Edward? I never thought Id find you here,”* said Claire, my old neighbour, now a doctor checking on residents.
*”Aye. Been a year. No one wants me now. Not a word.”*
*”Odd Harriet said youd bought a cottage in the countryside to retire.”*
*”Id have preferred that over rotting here behind these railings.”*
Claire shook her head, troubled. After her rounds, she returned. Our talk haunted her. Two weeks later, she made an offer:
*”Edward, my mums cottage in the Cotswolds is empty. She passed last year, and weve cleared her things. Its sturdy, with a wood and a stream nearby. If youd like, its yours. Ill never go back, and selling it would break my heart.”*
I wept. A stranger was giving me what my own daughter wouldnt.
*”May I ask one thing? Theres a woman hereMargaret. Shes got no one either. Id like us to go together.”*
*”Of course,”* Claire smiled. *”If she agrees, its settled.”*
I rushed to Margaret. *”Pack your bags! Were leaving! A cottage in the Cotswolds, fresh air, freedom. Itll be grand. Why stay here?”*
*”Lets go! A new life!”*
We packed, bought supplies. Claire drove us herself, refusing to let us take the bus. I held her tight, words failing me. *”Dont tell Harriet,”* I whispered. *”I dont want to hear from her again.”*
Claire nodded. She hadnt done anything extraordinary. Just acted like a decent human being. These days, thats almost heroic.
