**Diary Entry**
Five years without a single visit from my sonsbut a change in my will brought them running. I have two sons, three grandchildren, two daughters-in-law and I live like an orphan. For years, I believed Id raised men whod stand by me one day. Life showed me otherwise. Since my husband passed five years ago, not one of them has stepped foot in my home. No calls, no letters, no visits. Then I announced, loud and clear: “I’m leaving my flat to my niece.” Like magic, they appeared.
I had two boys and thought myself blessedthey say sons stay closer to their mums. I believed I wouldnt be alone in my old age. My husband and I worked hard to give them love, education, a good start. While their father was alive, theyd visit now and then. But the moment we buried him, it was as if I no longer existed.
They live in the same city, forty minutes by bus. Both married, with families of their own. I have two grandsons and a granddaughter Ive never met. After a nasty fall, I struggle to walk, yet somehow, they never have timealways busy, dodging my calls, promising to ring back but never doing so. Ive learned their promises mean nothing.
When the neighbours flooded my flat, I rang my eldestno answer. I rang the youngesthe swore hed come, but never did. All I needed was someone to paint over the stain on the ceiling. I hired a decorator. The money didnt sting half as much as realising two sons couldnt spare an hour for their mother.
When my fridge broke, I rang again. Just wanted company to buy a new one, afraid of being swindled. They said, “Mum, dont fussthe salesmen will explain it.” In the end, my brother and niece went with me.
Then came the pandemic. Suddenly, they remembered me. Called once a month: “Dont leave the house,” “order groceries online,” “be careful.” But I didnt know how. My niece taught me. Showed me the apps, brought medicine, stayed when I fell ill. Every night, shed ring: “Aunt Margaret, are you alright?” We grew closer than I ever was with my own sons.
I started spending holidays with my brother and his family. My nieces little girl calls me “Grandma.” And one day, it hit me: I may have sons, but my niece became my family. She asks for nothing. Shes just there. Cares for me. Helps.
So I decided: if my sons forgot me, my home will go to the one who stood by me. I changed my will in her name. She doesnt even know. I only meant to do whats fairgive to the one whos always given to me.
But word got out. That same day, my eldest rang. Voice tight, words biting. “Is it true youre leaving the flat to someone else?” When I said yes, he shouted, “Are you mad? Thats family property!” I hung up.
That night, they knocked. Both of them. With cake. With the granddaughter Id never seen. All smiles, all charm. Then came the pleas: “You cant do this,” “Shell toss you out,” “Were your sons,” “Youre giving our home to a stranger.” I listened quietly. Then replied, “Thanks for your concern. But my minds made up.”
They left, slamming the door. Said if I signed the papers, Id lose their help and never see my grands again. But darlings, Ive seen nothing from you for years but indifference. Five years goneand you only came running when you realised what youd lose. Not your mother. The flat.
No regrets. If my niece ever turns her back, so be it. But I doubt she will. Shes kind. Honest. True. And you? Now live with your consciences. If you still have them.
