Why Should It Matter Who Cared for Grandma? Legally, That Flat Should Be Mine! – My Mum Argues Bitterly With Me My own mum is threatening to take me to court. Why? Because Grandma’s flat didn’t go to her—or even to me—but to my daughter. My mum thinks it’s a grave injustice. She insists Grandma’s flat should rightfully be hers. But Grandma chose otherwise. Why? Probably because my husband and I lived with Grandma and cared for her during her final five years. My mum could quite rightfully be called selfish. Her wants and interests have always come before anyone else’s. She’s had three marriages but just two children: me and my younger sister. My sister and I have a great relationship. But things with Mum are a different story. I can’t even remember my dad. He divorced Mum when I was only two. Until I was six, Mum and I lived at Grandma’s. For some reason, I thought Grandma was terribly unpleasant—maybe because Mum was always in tears. Only later, as an adult, did I learn that Grandma was actually a good person, just desperate to set her daughter straight. Later, Mum married again and we moved in with my stepdad. That’s when my sister was born. Mum stayed with him for seven years, then divorced him too. This time we didn’t return to Grandma’s; instead my stepdad went off to work and let us stay in his flat. Three years later, Mum married a third time and we moved in with her new husband. Obviously, he wasn’t thrilled about his new wife’s kids, but he never treated us badly—he simply ignored us. So did Mum, who was busy being wrapped up in her new relationship, riddled with jealousy and dramatic outbursts. Every month, Mum would start packing her bags, but my stepdad always managed to talk her out of leaving. My sister and I got used to it, and eventually stopped caring. I took over raising my sister because Mum had no time. Luckily, both our grandmothers helped us a lot. I eventually left for university accommodation, and my sister went to live with Grandma. Dad always helped her, but Mum only called us at Christmas. I grew up accepting Mum as she was—the kind of parent who never worried about us. My sister, however, could never forgive her, and especially resented that Mum didn’t show up for her graduation. We both grew up. My sister married and moved to another city. My boyfriend and I lived together for ages but were in no hurry to wed, renting a place and visiting Grandma often. We were close, but I tried never to be a nuisance. Then Grandma fell ill and was hospitalised. The doctors told me she needed plenty of care, so I started coming daily—bringing groceries, cooking, cleaning, and, most importantly, making sure she took her medicines. For six months, this was life. Sometimes my boyfriend came too and handled the odd DIY job. One day, Grandma suggested we move in to save money for our own home. Of course we agreed. Grandma liked my boyfriend, and we all got on well. Six months later, I found out I was pregnant. We decided to keep the baby and Grandma was overjoyed about her great-grandchild. We had a simple wedding and took the family out to a café—my mum didn’t even show up or call with congratulations. When my daughter was just two months old, Grandma fell and broke her leg. Caring for a newborn and Grandma was almost impossible alone, so I called Mum for help. She refused, saying she wasn’t well and would come by another time—a promise she never kept. Six months later, Grandma suffered a stroke. Suddenly, she was bedridden. The care was gruelling, and I don’t know how I’d have managed without my husband. Grandma slowly regained some mobility and speech, and lived another two and a half years—long enough to watch her great-granddaughter learn to walk. She passed away quietly in her sleep, leaving us heartbroken. Mum only came to the funeral. A month later, she turned up demanding that I move out so she could claim the flat as her own. She was sure she’d inherit it—completely unaware Grandma had signed the property over to my daughter after she was born, leaving Mum without a penny. Mum was furious, demanding I hand over the flat or she’d sue. “Look how cunning you are! You tricked that old woman out of her flat and now you’re living there yourself! You won’t get away with this! It makes no difference who cared for Grandma—the flat should be mine!” But Mum won’t be getting that flat. I know this for sure—I’ve checked everything with the solicitor and notary. We will stay in the home Grandma gave us. And if our next child is a girl, we’ll give her Grandma’s name.

Why does it matter who looked after Gran? By law, that flat should belong to me! my mother argues with me.

My own mother has threatened to take me to court. Why? Because my grandmothers flat wasnt left to her, nor even to me, but to my daughter. Mum thinks thats horribly unfair. Shes convinced the flat should have come to her. But Grandma had other ideas. Most likely because my husband and I lived with her and took care of her for the last five years.

You can safely call my mother selfish. Her own wishes and interests were always far more important to her than anyone elses. Shes been married three times, but only has two children me and my younger sister. My sister and I get along brilliantly. With Mum, its a different story.

I cant even remember my dad. He divorced Mum when I was just two years old. Afterwards, until I was six, I lived with Mum at Grandmas house. For some reason, back then, I thought Gran was rather unkind. Probably because my mother always seemed to be crying. It wasnt until I was older that I realised my grandmother was actually a very good soul. She just wanted her daughter to straighten herself out.

Mum remarried, and she and I moved in with my stepdad. Thats when my sister was born. Mum stayed married to him for seven years. Then she divorced him as well. We didnt go back to Grandmas this time. My stepdad moved away for work, but let us stay on in his flat for a while. Three years later, Mum married yet again and we moved in with her new husband.

Naturally, he wasnt thrilled about inheriting her children. He never harmed us, but he barely noticed our existence. Mum didnt either, really. She was completely wrapped up in her new husband, constantly fretting about him, making scenes and breaking plates.

Once a month, Mum would start packing her bags. But in the end, her husband would always talk her round. My sister and I got used to it and stopped paying any attention. I pretty much raised my sister myself Mum never had the time. Thank goodness for our grandmothers. They were a huge support. Later, I moved into student halls, while my sister stayed with Grandma. Dad always offered a helping hand. Mum only rang us on holidays.

I saw my mother for who she was. Id become used to the idea that she didnt particularly care about us. But my sister never got used to it. She nursed a real grudge, especially after Mum didnt bother to turn up for her school-leaving party.

Eventually, we grew up. My sister got married and moved away with her husband to another city. My boyfriend and I, despite being together for ages, didnt rush into marriage. We lived together in a rented flat. I visited Grandma often. We were very close, but I tried not to be a nuisance.

Not long after, Grandma fell ill and was taken to hospital. The doctors said shed need proper care. So I started visiting Gran every day. I brought groceries, cooked meals, cleaned, or just kept her company. Most importantly, I made sure she took her medication on time.

For six months, I went nearly every day. Sometimes my boyfriend came too, always helping out with odd jobs or fixing things around the flat. Eventually, Gran suggested we move in, so we could save towards our own place instead of wasting money on rent.

Of course, we agreed without hesitation. I got on well with Gran, and she was very fond of my boyfriend. We moved in with her. Six months later, I found out I was pregnant. We decided, without question, to have the baby. Gran was delighted shed become a great-grandmother. We didnt bother with a huge wedding just popped down to the registry office and took immediate family for lunch at a café. My mother didnt even turn up, nor did she bother to ring and congratulate us.

When my daughter was two months old, Gran had a fall and broke her leg. It was tough, juggling caring for a baby and looking after Gran. I really needed Mums help. I called and asked her to come. She refused, said she wasnt feeling well, and might pop round later. She never kept her promise.

Six months later, Gran suffered a stroke. She became bedridden. Caring for her was incredibly hard. If not for my husband, I dont know how I would have managed. Gran slowly began to recover. She started to speak and move about, and eat on her own again. She lived for another two and a half years after the stroke. She saw her great-granddaughter take her first steps. Gran passed gently in her sleep. For me and my husband, her death was a terrible blow. We loved her dearly and miss her every day.

Mum only came for the funeral. A month later, she marched back in, insisting we leave the flat so she could claim it for herself. She was convinced it would be hers. What Mum didnt know was Gran had transferred the deeds to my daughter just after she was born. Thats why Mum got nothing.

Mum was livid about this. She demanded I hand over the flat or shed take us to court.

Would you believe it? Such trickery! You cheated the old lady out of her home, and now youre living in it! You wont get away with this! It doesnt matter who cared for Grandma! The flat should be mine!

My mother will never get her hands on this flat. I can say that with confidence Ive checked with a solicitor and a notary. Well continue living here in the home Grandma gave us. And if our second is a girl, well definitely name her after Gran.