She dreams of freedom in retirement, and we no longer stand in her way.
Her motherinlaw wanted a spacious life after retiring now we leave her be.
Sometimes fate plays such odd tricks that it becomes hard to tell truth from cruel irony. I never imagined that after twelve years under my motherinlaws roof, when everything seemed steady, our family would face a moral ultimatum: pay up or get out.
Soon after our wedding, Élodie Dubois offered my husband and me to move into her roomy threebedroom flat in the heart of Paris, while she gladly settled into my tiny suburban studio. We were thrilled: central living, good conditions, and the blessing of my motherinlaw what more could a young couple ask for?
We poured our wedding money into renovations: from floor to ceiling the apartment turned into a brandnew space, with a modern kitchen, revamped bathroom, fresh parquet, and a clever relayout. When Élodie saw the result, her eyes lit up. Its wonderful here! she exclaimed, Youve done a great job! Compliments flooded each visit. As a thankyou, we covered all her rental expenses. Relieved, she often thanked us, even saying her pension allowed her to save a little. Honestly, we never regretted the arrangement during those years.
Then the children arrived first a boy, then a girl. With the family growing, we began dreaming of a real home of our own. We saved for a larger place, though a fourroom flat was still out of reach. We kept the plan to ourselves, hoping to handle it gently when the time came.
Everything shifted when she retired. The joy of freedom quickly turned into complaints: How can I survive on this pitiful pension? Retirees are ignored by the government! We did what we could groceries, medication, small favors. One afternoon, over tea, she dropped a line that left my husband speechless.
My dear, youre living in my apartment, after all. How about we start talking rent? Lets say a thousand euros a month?
My husband was stunned, then slowly responded:
Mom, are you serious? We already pay your bills, your groceries, your life costs us almost nothing, and now you want rent?
Her reply was blunt:
In that case, well swap again! I want my apartment back!
We realized it was blackmail harsh, direct, and utterly ungrateful. What she didnt know was that we already had enough for a down payment on our own place. We listened in silence, then that very evening decided the situation couldnt continue.
A few days later we showed up with a pie not to apologize but hoping shed rethink. As soon as the topic surfaced, she snapped:
So, is that settled? Or will you pile into my place?
Our patience snapped.
Élodie, I said calmly, we wont crowd anywhere. You take back your flat, and well claim our independence.
And with what money, I ask you?
My husband cut her off:
Well manage. Its no longer your problem. Remember, Mom, you chose this. You wanted to live alone in your threeroom flat? Youll have it.
Things moved fast. We found a new home, secured a loan, tapped our savings, and sold my studio to lower the monthly payments. Three weeks later, our boxes were packed.
Today, Élodie lives again in her renovated apartment the one she loved only to discover shell be alone. She now complains to the neighbors about poor workmanship and ungrateful children, pays her own bills, carries her groceries, and finally tastes the bitter reality of a retirement without help.
We, on the other hand, occupy a modest fourroom home, but we are free morally and physically. No more giving accounts, fearing crises, or meeting new demands. We have turned the page.
As the proverb says, You reap what you sow. This time, however, were the ones not paying the price.
She Dreams of Freedom in Retirement, and We No Longer Stand in Her Way.
