In the quiet of my living room, I suddenly felt a strange calm. For the first time in years, I had done something not for my son or his family, but for me. And it was… liberating.
I walked over to the closet and pulled out an old photo album. As I flipped through the pages of my life—my wedding to James, Garrett’s birth, family vacations, vacations—I realized that somewhere along the way I’d lost myself, melted into the needs of others, forgetting my own desires and dignity. James always said, «‘Edith, don’t let anyone take you for granted.'» Even on his deathbed, he made me promise to take care of myself as I took care of others.
I haven’t kept that promise. Until today. I closed the album and put it back on the shelf.
Then I took off the dress I’d made for dinner and changed into my house dress. I made tea and pulled out a book I’d been meaning to read for a long time, but kept putting it off because of the endless requests and obligations to my family. Tomorrow would be a new day.
A day when I will start a new chapter of my life, without the financial shackles that bind me to people who don’t value my help or myself. 174 receipts. 174 reasons to move on.
I took a sip of tea and opened the book, savoring the silence and freedom of choice. My phone stayed off and my heart, for the first time in a long time, beat steady and calm. The Fayetteville Community Bank opened at nine in the morning, but I got there twenty minutes before it opened.
The night was surprisingly peaceful, the first time I’d slept without sleeping pills in a long time. Determination gave me strength. When the bank doors opened, I was the first customer.
The young woman behind the counter smiled welcomingly at me. Good morning, can I help you? I need to see Mrs. Howard, I replied. Linda Howard had worked at the bank for almost thirty years, and she was the person James and I always went to.
A few minutes later, I was sitting in Linda’s office. She hadn’t changed much over the years, the same neat gray hair, the same attentive eyes behind her thin-rimmed glasses. Edith, it’s good to see you, she shook my hand.
I was informed about the call yesterday. All 174 payments have been suspended as you requested. Is something wrong? I looked her straight in the eye.
I want to cancel them all, forever, and cut off Garrett’s access to my accounts. Linda took off her glasses and wiped them with a tissue, a gesture I’d noticed when she was thinking about something important. Edith, we’ve known each other for years, are you sure? It’s a rather radical decision.
I’m absolutely sure. She nodded and started typing something on the computer. That’s good, I’ll prepare all the necessary documents.
It will take some time, you do have a lot of automatic payments. While the system was generating the documents, Linda pulled out a thick folder. Here are printouts of all your regular transactions for the last year.
It might be helpful for you to look through them so you don’t miss anything. I opened the folder. Pages and pages of statements.
Each line is money going out of my pocket and into my family’s pocket. The first receipt is the monthly mortgage payment for Garrett and Marissa’s new house, $3,800. I remembered the day Garrett had brought me to see this house.
Mom, this is the perfect place for our family. And for you, there’s a guest room with a private bath on the first floor, you won’t have to climb the stairs. A guest room I’ve never slept in, which they won’t let me in now.
The next receipt is the insurance on Marissa’s car, a premium SUV that she said was necessary to work with high-level clients, $850 quarterly. I kept leafing through. Payment for a membership to the country club where Marissa was making business connections.
Bills for a private dental clinic because Toby has a special bite and needs a specialist. Rebecca’s college tuition, the only money I didn’t regret. Each receipt brought back memories of the conversation, the request, sometimes even the tears.
Mom, we’re so tight on funds right now. Grandmother, this is the latest model. Without it, I’ll be a white crow.
Edith, you don’t want your grandson to suffer from complexes, do you? Receipt after receipt, page after page, traveling a map of my naivety and their greed. Here’s the paperwork to cancel all payments. Linda’s voice brought me back to reality.
And the power of attorney revocation form. Please read it carefully and sign it if you agree. I took the pen and signed without hesitation.
Edith, Linda lowered her voice. If you need any help, any advice. It’s all right, Linda.
I smiled. For the first time in a long time, everything was really OK. Walking out of the bank, I felt lighter, like I had shed an invisible weight that had been dragging me down for years.
My next stop was my lawyer’s office. Francis Whitaker had been working with our family since James was alive. His graying beard had grown longer and his glasses thicker, but the sly gleam in his eyes remained the same.
Mrs. Wembley, what a pleasant surprise. He pointed to my chair. What can I do for you? I want to change my will.
I said calmly and confidently and set up a lifetime trust to protect my assets. Francis raised an eyebrow. May I ask what prompted this decision? Family circumstances have changed.
I didn’t want to go into details. I need to know how I can legally and safely manage my finances without interference from my son or his family. He nodded without asking any more questions.
There are several options. Let’s discuss each of them. We spent the next hour talking about irrevocable trusts, financial power of attorney, and contingent provisions in a will.
Francis took notes and explained the legal intricacies. I felt strangely free to make these decisions. When we finished, my phone had 15 missed calls from Garrett, seven from Marissa, and three from Toby.
None from Rebecca. Should I have the paperwork ready by the end of the week, Francis asked as he walked me to the door. The sooner the better, I replied.
And, Francis, thank you. He nodded understandingly. You know, Edith, James always said you were stronger than you looked.
I’m glad to see he was right. I walked out of the office with a slight smile. James, he always saw right through me.
On the way home, I stopped at the supermarket. For the first time in a long time, I bought groceries just for myself, not thinking about Garrett’s preferences or Toby’s favorite snacks. It was a strange but pleasant feeling to think only of my own desires.
There was a surprise waiting for me at home. Rebecca was sitting on the porch with her arms wrapped around her knees. She jumped up when she saw my car.
Grandma! She rushed over to me, helping me with the bags. I’ve been calling all day. Why didn’t you answer? I looked at my granddaughter carefully.
Rebecca looked so much like me when I was young. The same brown hair, the same stubborn wrinkles between her eyebrows when she worried. I’ve had a busy day, dear.
I opened the door. Come in and tell me what happened. We went into the kitchen.
Rebecca sat at the table, tapping her fingers nervously on the countertop while I sorted through the groceries. Grandma, what’s going on? Dad’s in a panic. He says you’ve blocked all payments and won’t answer your phone.
I calmly took out the kettle. It’s true. I’ve decided to cut off your family’s financial support.
But why? I could hear the genuine bewilderment in her voice. Did something happen? I poured water into the kettle and put it on the stove before answering. Your father canceled my invitation to the family dinner last night, said your mother didn’t want me there.
Rebecca turned pale. What? No way. Dad’s been saying all week how important it was that you come.
I have a message. I pulled out my phone and showed her. Rebecca covered her mouth with her hand as she read.
Oh, my God. I didn’t know. I swear.
Her eyes filled with tears. It’s awful, Grandma. I don’t understand how he could.
I put a cup of tea in front of her. That was the last straw, Rebecca. For years, I’ve paid for everything from your house to Toby’s tennis lessons.
And all that time, I felt like I was being used. Yesterday, I got confirmation. Rebecca was silent, staring into her cup.
Then she looked up at me. You know, I’ve always seen it, how they, uh, you know, take advantage of your kindness, especially Mom. I tried to talk to Dad, but he always defended her.
I nodded. Deep down, I always knew Rebecca understood more than she showed. What’s going to happen now? She asked quietly.
I mean, they have a lot of payments to make loans. They’ll have to manage on their own. I shrugged.
They’re adults with good jobs. Garrett’s a building inspector. Your mother’s a successful realtor.
They’ll be fine. The phone on the desk rang again. Garrett, I muted it.
Aren’t you going to answer it? Rebecca asked. Not today. I shook my head.
I needed time to collect my thoughts, and he needed time to realize the consequences of what he’d said. Rebecca looked at me thoughtfully. You know, Grandma, I’ve never seen you so… determined.
I smiled weakly. I hadn’t seen myself like that for a long time. We finished our tea in cozy silence.
When Rebecca was about to leave, she hugged me tighter than usual. Are you okay? Sure you don’t want me to stay? I’m perfectly fine, dear. I stroked her cheek.
Go on and don’t worry about me. She nodded but stopped at the door. I’m not taking sides in this conflict, Grandma.
You understand that, don’t you? Of course I do. I smiled. This is between me and your parents.
It has nothing to do with you. After Rebecca left, the house fell silent again. I checked the mail.
There was a notice of a failed charge on Toby’s credit card. That fast? Apparently my grandson was living up to his credit limit. I set the letter aside and sat in the chair by the window.
My phone kept vibrating with incoming messages and calls, but I paid no attention to it. Instead, I pulled out an old photo album and opened it to a random page. A picture from 20 years ago.
Me and James, young Garrett and Marissa, and little Toby and Rebecca on a picnic. Everyone is smiling. When did things change? When did support become an obligation? When did love change to an expectation of financial assistance? I closed the album and walked over to the hallway mirror.
The woman looking back at me from there looked tired, but there was something new in her eyes, a determination I hadn’t seen in years. Time to remember who you are, Edith Wembley, I said to my reflection. The ringing of the doorbell interrupted my thoughts.