My children held a sale of the inheritance while I was still lying in the hospital — but when they called the notary, an unpleasant surprise awaited them

Beside me, the machine quietly counted the seconds, reminding me that I was still alive. The nurse came over, adjusted the IV, and said that the readings had improved and that I was a strong woman.

There was more warmth in her words than in all of my children’s conversations over the past few months.

In the evening, they came into my room with rehearsed smiles. Daniel squeezed my hand and assured me that they would take care of everything.

At that moment, I felt not like a mother, but like an old thing they had decided to carefully put away so it would not get in the way.

In the morning, I asked for permission to make one phone call. My lawyer answered immediately and, without unnecessary questions, promised to take care of everything.

A few days later, my granddaughter Lily came to see me in secret. She told me that the house by the sea was already being prepared for sale and quietly confessed that she had hidden the family albums and letters, because they had no value for the others.

I asked to be discharged from the hospital for a short time and went home. I saw strangers sorting through my belongings and putting price tags on my life. And it was precisely then that I realized the decision made many years ago had been the only right one.

Continue reading…