Recently, my daughter got divorced and moved back into our cramped flat with her little one.
Not long ago, my daughter split from her husband and settled in with usher, the baby, my husband, and me, all squeezed into our tiny London flat. Id hoped that while she was on maternity leave, she and the little one could stay with my mum for a bit. But thats impossible nowbecause at 68, Mums gone and got married again!
When she first rang to say she was tying the knot, I thought she was pulling my leg. Sixty-eight, remarrying? But no, it was dead serious. Mum had been on her own for years after Dad passed two decades ago. I left home at 35, built my own life with my husband and kids in the city, visited her a few times a month, popped round for Christmasperfectly civil.
Mum, thank goodness, is fit as a fiddlekeeps her house spotless, tends the garden herself. My husband and I only step in for the heavy lifting, like trimming the hedges or chopping firewood. Otherwise, shes completely self-sufficient.
And now shes gone and moved some bloke in! Its an absolute betrayal, if you ask me. She had no business doing this to us. Her fiancénow husbandis some old flame from her youth, a childhood sweetheart she reconnected with a few years back. They had a quiet registry office do in July, followed by a modest lunch at a local pubjust close family.
We didnt go. Frankly, its embarrassing! What on earth did she need that for? She was perfectly fine on her own. Im dead against this marriage and still cant wrap my head around it. Now theyre living together in her big, lovely housethe one I assumed would stay in the family.
Her new husband hasnt got two pennies to rub togetherjust three grown kids and a horde of grandkids. Why would she do this? How could she? Now that theyre legally hitched, hes got every right to stake a claim on what shouldve been our inheritance. Meanwhile, were stuck in this shoebox of a flat.
And just when my daughter needed a place to stay, too. I thought Mums house wouldve been ideal, but noshes too busy playing newlywed.
We didnt speak for months. Then my auntMums sistercalled from Devon and gave me an earful. Said we were being rotten, that Mum deserved happiness, and we ought to be happy for her. Going on about inheritance while shes still alive? A bit grim, really. But honestlysome sympathy for *me* wouldnt go amiss.
Now, instead of inheriting Mums lovely house, we might end up with some doddering old stranger, his penny-pinching relatives, and a legal nightmare over who gets what. So yes, I stand by itMums in the wrong here, and Ive every right to be furious.
