When my husband left for a younger woman, the children took his side — after all, he was a respected man, the director of a large company.
For many years, they didn’t even think about me, and I was left completely alone.
Recently, my ex-husband passed away, and only then did it come to light that he had left all his property to his young wife.
And that’s when the children remembered me.
Now they visit me often, but I know why…
Recently, my daughter started dropping hints, saying it’s time to think about the future, about a will.
None of them have any idea about the surprise I have prepared for them.
They will find out after my death.
In their old age, the children remembered they had a mother, but I will never forget how they treated me.
The years went by, and I remained as if lost on the edge of the world.
My children always looked at me like a stranger, as if we spoke different languages.
When I divorced my husband, it became the final blow to our communication.
They sided with him — after all, he was an important man, a respected director of a large company.
And frankly, it was more profitable to be with him.
And me?
I was left alone.
An abandoned wife, a forsaken mother.
The children quickly forgot about me, and I only heard through mutual acquaintances how they were having fun with their father and his young wife.
They traveled together to warm countries, dined in expensive restaurants, made plans.
And I stayed in my empty apartment.
Each such piece of news wounded me like sharp shards of glass.
At some point, I realized: I needed to live for myself.
I went abroad to work.
For the first time in many years, I felt free.
In their old age, the children remembered they had a mother, but I will never forget how they treated me.
By the end of my work abroad, I had saved enough to transform my life.
When I returned home, I renovated my apartment, bought new furniture, appliances, and put away some money for my old age.
Meanwhile, my children had built their own families.
I heard that they were doing well: big weddings, children, celebrations.
But then came unexpected news — my ex-husband died of a heart attack.
He had left all his fortune to his young wife.
My son and daughter were left with nothing.
Their bitterness quickly turned into warm memories of me.
At first, they started visiting me with small gifts.
They brought sweets, fruits, and asked how I was doing.
I welcomed them with a smile, but deep inside I knew: each of them had their own agenda.
Now I am 72 years old.
I am healthy, lively, and satisfied with life.
However, recently my daughter began to hint again: that it was time to think about the future, about a will.
A couple of weeks later, my granddaughter — the one who got married just a year ago — came by to visit.
“Grandma, aren’t you lonely here by yourself?” she asked with genuine curiosity.
“No, I’m very comfortable here,” I replied.
In their old age, the children remembered they had a mother, but I will never forget how they treated me.
“But the apartment is so big,” she continued. “It must be hard for you to clean it all?”
“Maybe my husband and I could move in with you? It would be more fun for you, and easier for us — no rent to pay.”
I smiled.
Their calculation was obvious.
“Who said you wouldn’t have to pay?” I calmly replied. “I’ll give you a good discount.”
My granddaughter was taken aback.
She had clearly expected me to throw open the doors and say, ‘Take everything, I’m just happy.’
But I had another plan.
Several years ago, I had already drawn up a will clearly stating that after my death, my apartment would be sold, and the money would go to a fund for helping sick children.
When my daughter found out about it, she was furious.
She called, she screamed that I was being unfair, that I was depriving my grandchildren of their future.
Then my son showed up, gently hinting that he was ready to take care of me.
But their sudden “love” did not move me.
If you were in my place, would you let your granddaughter move into your apartment?
