When I Lost My Husband, I Didn’t Mention The Retirement Benefits He Left Me – Or The Second Home In Spain. A Week Later, My Son Sent Me A Message With Clear Instructions: “Start Packing, The House Has Been Sold.”

“Just the truth. That dad’s pension isn’t enough. that the house is too much for you to handle alone.

That you’re probably struggling more than you’re letting on.”

The truth as if he knew anything about my actual circumstances. As if any of them had bothered to ask detailed questions about Russell’s affairs, about the investments he’d made, about the modest inheritance from his mother that we’d quietly saved and invested over the years. I thought about the folder in Russell’s desk drawer, the one I’d found while sorting through his papers.

bank statements, investment portfolios, the deed to a small villa in Marba that he’d purchased as a surprise for our retirement. A place where we can watch sunsets and drink wine without anyone asking us for anything, he’d said, showing me the photographs just 6 months before his heart attack. “I’ll think about it,” I said finally.

“Mom, we’re not asking you to think about it. We’re telling you what needs to happen. Lisa found a buyer already.

Her cousin Gregory is in real estate and he’s got a client who’s very interested. Cash offer. Quick closing.

Start packing your bags.”

My hand tightened on the phone. “You found a buyer for my house.”

“We’re trying to help you, Mom. The sooner you accept that this is the best solution for everyone, the easier this transition will be.”

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