My son and his wife handed me a flat the day I finally clocked out of work and went onto my pension. They turned up with a set of keys and escorted me straight to a solicitors office. I was so thrilled I could barely get a word out, so I only managed a whisper:
Why are you giving me such an expensive gift? I dont need it!
Its a retirement bonus, love. Youll have a place for the tenants my son told me.
At that point I hadnt even started drawing my state pension yet. Id only just been made redundant with a proper retirement package, and theyd already sorted everything without me. I tried to refuse, but they told me not to argue.
My relationship with my daughterinlaw has never been smooth: calm one moment, then out of the blue a storm would break. I was part of that storm, and she was too. We spent years learning to get along, learning not to quarrel, learning not to fight. Thanks to God, weve been living peacefully for a few years now.
When my sisterinlaw heard about the flat, she rang me straight away, congratulated me, and then bragged: Ive raised a good daughter, she never minded such a gift for you! She added that she herself would never accept a present like that and would give it up for the sake of her grandson.
At halfpast midnight I wondered if I could manage on one pension, since I didnt need much. In the morning I called my grandson and gently probed whether hed mind if I set him up with a place. Hell be turning sixteen soon, heading off to university, and has a girlfriend he cant bring home to his parents.
Grandad, dont worry! Ill earn my own keep! he replied.
Everyone turned down the flat. I offered it to my daughterinlaw, to my grandson, even to my son.
It reminded me of the time my older sisters sisterinlaw lost her house and had to move into council housing, clinging to that tiny flat like a drowning man to a piece of straw.
Our uncle Hes been missing for fifteen years, and his heirs still cant agree because they cant split his estate without fighting.
I once saw a programme where my own parents had bequeathed their house to my brother, only for him to evict them and then sell the property, leaving mum and dad on the street.
I cried Im not even sure if it was gratitude or pride in my children. After a visit to the pension office I learned my pension comes to £2,000 a month, and then my son let me rent the flat for £3,000 a month. In that moment I truly appreciated my kids gift: it was fit for a king.
