**Diary Entry 15th May**
*”She cant live hereshes nobody to us.”* I overheard my husbands daughter, Emily, arguing with her brother, insisting I should be thrown out of the house Ive called home for the last fifteen years.
*”Wait, Emily. Its not that simple. Wheres Aunt Margaret supposed to go now?”* replied James, my husbands son. Ive always thought him kinder than his sisterafter fifteen years together, Id learned a thing or two.
My husband passed recently, and his children from his first marriage wasted no time dividing his estate. It wasnt insignificant: a house in the countryside, a garden, a garage, and a car. I never expected much, but I didnt think theyd try to push me out so quickly.
Robert and I met later in life, both carrying the weight of failed marriages and grown children. I had two daughters; he had a son and daughter. Id just turned fifty, my eldest had married, bringing her husband home, while my younger daughter remained single. Our little flat in Manchester couldnt hold us all.
Then I met Robertfive years my senior, long settled on his own. His children were grown, married, and well-provided for. Hed held a good position, earned decently, and owned a charming cottage in the Lake District. He didnt hesitateasked me to move in with him straightaway. After some thought, I agreed. He was a good man, treated me well, and Id grown fond of him.
Life there was peaceful. We tended the garden, kept chickens, even raised pigs for a time. Both his children and mine visited often, and we never let them leave empty-handedalways with bags of homegrown vegetables or preserves. Robert and I never married legally. At first, we considered it, but later decided a stamp in a passport mattered little at our age.
Those fifteen years were wonderful. No regrets.
In that time, my younger daughter married too, though she and her sister nearly came to blows over whod inherit the flat. The eldest, already settled, refused to share or let her sister move in with her husband. In the end, they paid her off, and that was that.
Then, a year ago, my youngest divorced and returned home with her child. The eldest wasnt pleased, and the arguments started anew. Id hoped shed reconcile with her husband, but no such luck.
Now, with Robert gone, I must leavebut where to? The flats still legally mine, but its cramped, and Id only be in the way.
*”Aunt Margaret, you can stay until we find a buyer,”* James offered the next morning. I was relieveduntil Emily clarified the terms: I could remain if I kept up the house and garden alone. So now Im to be their unpaid labourer, in exchange for not paying rent? Hardly fair. At 65, tending livestock and crops is no small task.
Im stuck. Stay here as their servant until they sell, or return to my daughters chaos? Neither feels right. Funny how life turnsyou build a home, only to realise youve no place in it.
**Lesson learned:** Never assume kindness lasts beyond the grave. Some debts arent worth the price.
