A year ago, I found myself suddenly alone. After my husbands funeral, I slowly managed to pull myself together, only to realise that loneliness wasnt my only concern. Money, or rather the lack of it, had become a rather looming issue. I live as modestly as possiblemy idea of a treat is a cup of proper tea with the heating turned upbut surprise costs have a habit of popping up. Theres always the GP, the chemist, and a never-ending list of little things that mysteriously empty my purse.
My husband and I raised two children, and we always tried to give them everything we could scrape together. Plenty of pounds meant for home improvements or rainy days found their way to our childrens accounts. I have no idea what Lady Fate has in store for me, but in any case, this flat will go to my son and daughter unless I suddenly fall in love with someone from the will-writing industry, which, lets be honest, is unlikely. Theyre both bright enough to know how much the place is worth, and they must be well aware its a nice little nest egg waiting for them.
I tried, more than once, to drop hints with my kids about my struggle to make ends meet. I even went so far as to mention the ever-climbing bills, hoping that if they picked up the utilities, life would feel less like an obstacle course between payday and the next. My daughter suddenly grew very interested in the curtains and feigned utter confusion, while my sons wife seems to be the Chancellor of the family Exchequermy poignant attempts vanished into thin air.
I have a fair idea how well both my son and daughter are doing. Im chuffed for them, honestly. Theyve got swanky cars, pop off on holidays to places with real sunshine, and my grandchildren never seem to lack a tenner for snacks or the latest fashion. Watching them spendas if a ten-pound note is just loose changeI often find myself wondering: Did we raise them to be so blind to my situation? Did they miss all those lessons about helping out, when we used to visit our own parents, arms loaded with shopping bags, or settle the cost of medicine and the odd specialist?
My friend floated the idea of marching into my son or daughters house, suitcase in hand, and renting out my flat to sort the finances. As tempting as it sounds to play unwanted house guest, I cant say Im ready for that. But honestly, if another heart-to-heart with the children doesnt do the trick, I might have to. My pension simply doesnt stretch, and all my savings have evaporatedironically, invested in the very people now politely looking the other way.
