“She’s not needed here like it’s a care home…”
My grandmother, whom I frequently visit in the village, shared this remarkable story with me. We hadn’t seen each other for quite some time because I’d spent two years working abroad. Upon returning to England, my first stop was to visit my dear grandmother.
I had been staying in the village for several days when I noticed I hadn’t seen Mary Smith, Grandma’s neighbor from across the street. I always admired this kind and hardworking elderly woman.
“Gran, where’s your friend Mary Smith? I haven’t seen her all week. Is something wrong?” I asked with concern.
Grandma looked at me in surprise. “Oh, she’s been living in a care home for over a year,” she exclaimed. “I forgot you wouldn’t know! Let me tell you the story.”
As mentioned, Mary was always industrious. Nobody in the village had ever seen her idle. She was always tending to her garden or her chickens, baking pies to share with half the village, or rushing off to the market with fresh produce. Every penny she earned was carefully saved in a biscuit tin.
It wasn’t for herself. She had little personal need. It was for her only son, William, his wife Sue, and their daughter Ellie. William and his family lived three hours away in the city. They visited regularly but never helped with the garden or the livestock. They did, however, fill their car boots with the produce she gladly offered.
Time passed, and Mary began feeling her age. Her health declined, her back ached, her knees troubled her, and her blood pressure soared. She gradually reduced her chores, allowing neighbors to plant potatoes in her garden. William visited less frequently, and Sue eventually stopped coming altogether.
When Mary’s eyesight worsened suddenly, she grew worried. She called her son, asking to see city doctors. William picked her up and brought her to his home. Sue wasn’t thrilled to see her mother-in-law, but she hid it well, offering a meal after the long journey. William suggested a thorough health check-up. They spent an entire day at the clinic and stopped at the pharmacy for medications.
It was too late to return to the village, which disappointed Sue visibly when she learned that Mary would be spending the night. In the kitchen, Sue prepared dinner with such vigor the clattering of dishes sounded like a musical band.
Meanwhile, an elderly neighbor popped by. Seeing Mary, she was overjoyed, “Mary, it’s been ages! Visiting just for the day? Come over for some tea.”
Seeing his mother to the neighbor’s, William returned to the kitchen.
“Cooking, are we, Sue? While Mom’s out, let’s chat.”
“What about?” Sue already sounded displeased.
“Mom’s not as fit… the clinic found a slew of issues. Her legs ache, she can barely walk.”
“She’s not young! What did you expect? That’s old age.”
“Exactly,” William continued eagerly, “Our flat has three bedrooms, Ellie and her husband live in London now, unlikely to return. So…”
“Hold on, are you suggesting we take her in?” Sue exclaimed, “Are you out of your mind? It’s a flat, not a care home.”
William replied sharply, “For the record, this flat was partly furnished with Granny’s summer earnings from selling her cherries and strawberries.”
Sue shot back furiously, “Is that supposed to guilt-trip me? Your mother helped her son and granddaughter, not strangers.”
“You’ve always had a cold heart, Sue,” her husband sighed deeply. “I thought we’d move Mom in, enjoy life together. Her house is valuable. We could sell it, buy a car, maybe holiday somewhere nice…”
“Oh, let her keep her house then!” Sue shouted, “After a week abroad, you expect me to look after her for a decade? You’re dreaming!”
“How dare you speak such nonsense, idiot,” William retorted heatedly, suddenly noticing Mary at the door.
The room fell into deafening silence.
“Mom, have you been standing there long?” he stammered.
“Just arrived,” Mary smiled warmly. “I’m getting my glasses, Kate and I are looking at albums. Oh, I almost didn’t mention, son, I plan to move into a community residence next month. Could you help with my things?”
William was speechless. But Sue sprang into action.
“Of course, he will help. I’ll join him. We’ll pack everything you need. You’ve made the right choice. Living with friends your age is much better than being alone.”
… The community residence where William and his wife brought Mary evoked mixed feelings. The staff was brilliant; the director was kind and compassionate. Undoubtedly, the elderly were treated warmly. However, the building was in poor condition, flooring in disrepair, drafts through windows, the common room had only broken chairs and a dated TV.
Mary’s small room was damp and uninviting, though she didn’t let it show.
“Don’t worry, Mom,” William said confidently. “I’ll refurbish this place splendidly during my next leave. You’ll be proud. Take care; we’ll visit soon.”
William remembered his promise only six months later, when Sue reminded him they needed to decide about his mother’s house. It was summer – prime selling season.
… The director warmly welcomed the infrequent visitors, speaking kindly about Mary.
“Before heading upstairs, pop into the common room. Perhaps your grandmother is there with friends watching TV. I’ll lead the way,” he suggested.
Mary wasn’t there. Surveying the room, Sue gasped, “Wow! You’ve transformed the place. New sofas, chairs, a massive TV, flowers everywhere. It must have cost a bundle.”
“Thanks to your mother,” the director nodded.
“My mother?” William asked, confused, “How come?”
“Well, this transformation was funded by her.”
“How did she get such a fortune?” Sue laughed, then froze, “William?! Did she sell the house?”
… Mary watched calmly as her relatives bombarded her with reproaches and accusations of selfishness.
“Why all the fuss? I sold my home, not yours. I have every right. I’m comfortable and happy here, wanting to bring joy where I can.”
Mary looked slyly at Sue, who flushed with anger.
“It’s better to sell a house to bring happiness, isn’t it? Easier than choking on it, right, Sue?”
Sue dropped her gaze and quickly fled. There was nothing she could change…
