My son isnt divorced; he lives with his girlfriend, but he hardly gets a word in edgeways. Every time I visit their home, my daughter-in-law demands a promise of a certain sumotherwise, she wont allow me to see my grandson.
They married two years ago, and from the start I never warmed to her. She had those envious, grasping eyes and hands eager for more. Barely had the ink dried on their marriage certificate when she began telling me I should downsizeinsisting my three-bedroom flat be sold, and half the proceeds handed over to them, all because my son hasnt a home of his own.
We clashed about this. First, Ive a daughter to think of as well. Second, why on earth would I have to sacrifice my home for my daughter-in-laws comfort? My children had their education, a fair start in life. The rest, they must earn with their own clevernessas I and my late husband did, getting nothing handed to us.
My daughter, still single, works hard and took on a mortgage. She stayed with me for a while, renting out her flat to help with payments, but now lives independently. My son, thoughhe hasnt a care for himself, and hangs on his wifes every word. He refuses to live with meshes never made the effort either. It hardly suits anyone to force three adults under one roof, but I would have agreed, just so they could save for a deposit. Still, Ill never sell the flat or give it away. When Im gone, my children will inherit their share and its up to them to work it out.
I made myself clear to my daughter-in-law. As gently as I could. But she sneered, Isnt it a bit much for one person to hog such a large flat? Such an attitude! I begged my son to stand up to her, but he only muttered nonsense, too timid to speak plainly.
I dont know where my son gets it. Im sturdy, his father was resilient, and my sisters got backbone aplenty. Yet he wilts at the first sign of confrontation. I sometimes wonder how he ever managed to marry. Likely, his wife was simply keen to find a husband and he was there.
After that argument about the flat, my daughter-in-law stopped speaking to me. My son would call now and then but never visited, likely under her orders. I heard, over the phone, that I was to become a grandmother for the first time. I tried to use this joyful moment to make peacebought her a present, a cake, and went to see them. Yet at the door, she muttered something about her child being born a vagabond in someone elses flat, and the old conversation flared up again.
That olive branch snapped. I didnt argue with a pregnant woman; I quietly left. Some people never change. I stayed away from them till the end of her pregnancy. My own health began to failrushing between hospital appointments, utterly spent. When she gave birth, I wasnt even toldthe news came a week later, from my sons reluctant call.
He invited me over, but during the chat, my daughter-in-law broke in shamelessly, telling me to skip the presents and just hand over cash. I held back my tongue, but decided to bring along a little envelopeafter all, a grandchild isnt born every day. I went as agreed.
She opened the envelope at the door with contempt writ clear on her face. It seemed to her, a thousand pounds was nothing. She said nothing, but her distaste was obvious. My grandson was beautiful, with his fathers nose. I didnt stay long. I wasnt asked to visit again, and I chose not to make a fuss. A new baby needs peace. Yet after three months with no word, I rang my son, inviting them over.
I bought bits for the baby, a cake for tea, and arrived. My daughter-in-law greeted me coldly. She took the gifts, gave me a narrowed look and said, You understood last time, I hope. We dont want presentsbring money each time, for the child.
So, Im expected to pay to see my own grandson? I asked, appalled.
What do you think? Were renting because of you. My husband works alone, youve done nothing for your grandchild, so at least pay upkeep.
My throat tightened with outrage. My son heard all this and just stood cradling the baby, eyes downcast.
I left without a word. I shall not debase myself before someone so shameless. I refuse to buy visits with my own grandchild.
We havent spoken in nearly a year. They dont call me, and I dont call them. Then, last week, my son finally phoned. It was my grandsons birthday, he saidI could visit, so long as I didnt forget his present. My daughter-in-law immediately grabbed the phone, demanding to know just how much money Id be bringingthe sum equal to a whole months salary.
I didnt go. I simply didnt have the money. I had to accept that, for all intents and purposes, I had no grandsonor son. Had my son truly loved me, he would never have let his wife blackmail me for time with my grandchild. Let them rot in their own swamp. I wont pay to see my grandson.
Now Im thinking about what to do with my flat, so that even after Im gone, neither my soft-hearted son nor that greedy woman can claim a single inch.
