my dil made me choose between living in the basement or a nursing home.
i’ve just been widowed, so i sold my big house not to feel lonely and visited my son for some time. he was the one who asked me to move in if i needed it.
the grief took over, and all i wanted was to be around family.
i was at their doorstep, suitcases at my feet, ready to take on the role of a live-in mother and grandmother — taking over the kitchen whenever lucy needed me.
however, not my son but his wife met me and mumbled straightaway that their house was bursting at the seams.
her: «»you’ve got two options. there is the basement, or there’s a nursing home. your call, grandma.»»
what would you choose in my place? because being stricken, i chose… full story in comments ⬇️
