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 truth blurs with 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.
Right after our wedding, Élodie Dubois offered my husband and me to move into her large threeroom apartment in the heart of Paris, while she gladly settled into my tiny suburban studio. We were thrilled: a central location, good conditions, and the blessing of my motherinlaw what could be better for a young couple?
We poured our wedding savings into renovations: from floor to ceiling the flat looked brand new, with a modern kitchen, refurbished bathroom, fresh parquet and a slight reshuffle of the rooms. When my motherinlaw visited, her eyes lit up. Its beautiful here! Youve done a great job! she exclaimed, showering us with compliments each time. As a token of gratitude, we covered all her rentrelated expenses. Relieved, she often thanked us, even saying she could save a little from her pension. Honestly, throughout those years we never regretted the arrangement.
Then the children arrived: first a boy, then a girl. As the family grew, we began dreaming of a real home of our own. We saved for a bigger place, though a fourroom flat was beyond our reach. We kept our plans hidden from Élodie, hoping to handle the transition smoothly when the time came.
Everything shifted when she retired. The excitement of freedom quickly gave way to complaints: How can I live on this pitiful pension? Retirees get nowhere with this government! We did what we couldshopping, picking up medication, small favors. One afternoon, over tea, she dropped a sentence that left my husband speechless.
My dear, youre living in my apartment, after all. So, shall we talk about rent? Lets say a thousand euros a month?
My husband was stunned. After a moment he answered,
Mum, are you serious? We already pay your bills, your groceries; your living costs are almost nothing. And now you want rent?
Her reply was blunt:
In that case, lets swap again! I want my apartment back!
We realized it was blackmailharsh, 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 that this could not continue.
A few days later we showed up with a pienot to apologize, but hoping shed reconsider. As soon as the topic arose she snapped,
So, is it settled? Or are you going to crowd into my place?
Our patience snapped.
Élodie, I said calmly, we wont crowd anywhere. You take back your apartment, and well claim our independence.
And with what money, I ask you?
My husband cut in,
Well manage. Its no longer your problem. Remember, Mum, you chose this. You wanted to live alone in your threeroom flat? Youll have it.
Things moved quickly. 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 is back in her renovated apartment, funded by our moneythe one she loved so much only to realize shell live there alone. She now complains to the neighbours about poor work and ungrateful children, pays her own bills, carries her groceries, and finally tastes the bitter reality of a retirement without assistance.
As for us, we live in a modest fourroom flat, but freelyboth morally and physically. No more accounts to settle, no fear of crises or new demands. Weve turned the page.
As the proverb says: You reap what you sow. This time, however, were not the ones covering the costs.
She Dreams of Freedom in Retirement, and We No Longer Stand in Her Way.
