She dreamed of freedom in retirement, and we no longer stand in her way.
The motherinlaw wanted a spacious life after retiring now we leave her alone.
Sometimes life twists itself so oddly that truth and cruel destiny become indistinguishable. 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 happily took my modest studio in the suburbs. 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 looked brand new, with a modern kitchen, refurbished bathroom, fresh parquet, and a slight relayout. Élodie came to admire the result, eyes shining. Its gorgeous here! You did a great job! compliments poured in with each visit. As a thankyou, we covered all her rentrelated expenses. Relieved, she often thanked us, even saying she could set aside 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 to long for a true home of our own. We saved for a larger place, though a fourroom flat was beyond our reach. We kept the plan hidden from Élodie, hoping to handle it smoothly when the time came.
Everything shifted when she retired. The joy of freedom quickly turned into complaints: How can I live on such a meager pension? Retirees, the government doesnt care! We did what we could groceries, medicines, small favors. One afternoon, over tea, she dropped a sentence that left my husband speechless.
My dear, youre living in my apartment, after all. How about we talk rent? Lets say a thousand euros a month?
My husband was stunned. After a moment he answered:
Mom, are you serious? We already cover your bills, your groceries; your life costs almost nothing. And now you want rent?
Her reply was blunt:
In that case, we swap again! I want my flat back!
We realized it was blackmail harsh, direct, 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 night decided enough was enough.
A few days later we arrived with a pie not to apologize, but hoping shed reconsider. As soon as the topic resurfaced she said:
So, is that settled? Or are you going to cram into my place?
Our patience snapped.
Élodie, I said calmly, we are not going to crowd anywhere. You take back your flat, and we will claim our independence.
And with what money, I ask you? she retorted.
My husband cut in:
Well manage. Its no longer your problem. Remember, mother, 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 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 neighbours about poor workmanship 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 occupy a modest fourroom house, but we are free morally and physically. No more accounting, no fear of crises or new demands. We have turned the page.
As the proverb says, You reap what you sow. This time, however, we are not the ones footing the bill.
She Dreams of Freedom in Retirement, and We No Longer Stand in Her Way.
