**Diary Entry**
Five years without a visit from my children, but a change to my will brought them rushing back.
I have two sons, three grandchildren, two daughters-in-law and I live like an orphan. For years, I believed Id raised men who would one day be my support. Life showed me otherwise. Since my husband passed five years ago, not one of them has set foot in my houseno calls, no letters, no visits. Until the day I announced, Im leaving my flat to my niece. Then, as if by magic, they reappeared.
I raised two boys and thought myself blessedafter all, they say sons stay closer to their mothers. I trusted I wouldnt be alone in my old age. My husband and I gave them love, education, helped them start their lives. While their father lived, they still visited occasionally. But once we buried him, it was as if I no longer existed.
They live in the same city, just forty minutes by bus. Both married, busy with their own families. I have two grandsons and a granddaughter Ive never met. After a fall, I struggle to walk, but for them, theres never timealways too busy, ignoring my calls, promising to ring back but never doing so. Ive grown used to their empty words.
When the neighbours flooded my flat, I rang the eldestno answer. The youngest promised to come but never did. I just needed someone to paint over the water stain on the ceiling. In the end, I hired a decorator. What hurt wasnt the money, but realising my own sons couldnt spare an hour for me.
When my fridge broke, I called them again. I only wanted company to buy a new one, afraid of being cheated. Their reply? Mum, dont stress, the salespeople will explain. In the end, my brother and niece went with me.
Then came the pandemic. Suddenly, they remembered me. Monthly calls: Stay indoors, order shopping online, be careful. But I didnt know how. My niece taught meshowed me the apps, brought medicine, stayed when I fell ill. Every night, she rang: Auntie Anne, are you alright? We grew closer than I ever was with my own children.
I started spending holidays with my brother and his family. My nieces daughter calls me gran. And one day, it struck me: I may have sons, but my niece became my true family. She asks for nothingjust stays, helps, cares.
So I decided: if my sons forgot me, my flat would go to the one who stood by me. I wrote my will in her name. She doesnt even know. I only meant to do whats fairreward the one who truly looked after me.
But someone must have talked. That same day, my eldest called, voice tight, words sharp. Is it true youre giving the flat away? When I said yes, he shouted, Have you lost your mind? Thats family property! I hung up.
That evening, they knocked at my door. Both of them. With a cake. And the granddaughter Id never met. All smiles, all charm. Then came the pleas: You cant do this, shell throw you out, were your sons, youre giving our home to a stranger. I listened quietly, then said, Thank you for your concern. But my decision is made.
They left, slamming the door. Threatened that if I signed the papers, Id lose their help and never see my grandchildren again. But my dears, Ive seen nothing but indifference from you for years. You came after fivenot for me, but for the flat.
I dont regret it. If my niece ever turns away, so be it. But I dont believe she will. Shes kind, honest, true. And you? Now live with your consciencesif you still have any.
