“Well, it’s an investment. Four thousand a month. But if you sell the house, you would have enough to—”
“I am not selling my house to lock myself away in a luxury assisted living facility.”
Faith.
Her face hardened for a fraction of a second before she regained her sweet, worried smile.
“It’s not an assisted living facility, Mom. It’s a community. And I’m not saying you have to do it now. Just consider it for your own good.”
For my own good.
Those four words became the constant refrain of every conversation. Everything was for my own good. Moving in with them was for my own good. Selling the house was for my own good. Signing papers they wouldn’t even let me fully read was for my own good.
Grant tried another approach. He started talking to me about investments, about how money kept in a house didn’t generate interest.
“You could sell, invest the money, and live off the rent it would generate. Six hundred, seven hundred a month for doing nothing.”
“I already have my pension from the hospital. Twelve hundred monthly. It’s enough.”
“But with more money, you could travel, treat yourself, enjoy your old age.”
Old age—another word that started appearing too often, always loaded with implications of incapability, of needing supervision, of dependence.
But what truly opened my eyes was a conversation I overheard by chance three months before my birthday.
I had gone to drop off a sweater I had knitted for my youngest grandson at Faith’s house. I rang the bell, but no one answered. Even though Grant’s car was in the driveway, the door was ajar. So I went in, calling out for them.
Their voices came from the study. They were talking on the phone on speaker with someone who had a professional, cold tone.
“So what you’re suggesting is that we wait for her to have a temporary health issue that incapacitates her.”
It was the voice of an older man, probably a lawyer.
“Exactly,” Grant responded. “An accident, a hospitalization—something that justifies her needing help managing her affairs. And at that moment, you would request temporary guardianship, presenting evidence that the lady cannot make decisions on her own.”
“But is that legal?” Faith asked. “I mean, she’s perfectly fine now—clear-headed, independent.”
“That’s why I said temporarily. A judge could grant you guardianship for six months, renewable depending on your mother’s health status. During that time, you would have legal power to sell properties, manage bank accounts, make medical decisions, and if she objects…”
