Why Am I Not Grateful?

When my mother, who I was estranged from for twenty-eight years, said she’d rather leave her house to me than my sister I must admit I was tempted to grab her in a bear hug and dance around the room with her! Yet, I stopped to consider my younger sister, who is both poor at keeping in touch and won’t have much of a pension due to spending twenty-two years of her life not working at the behest of her controlling baby daddy. I too, in the past, have been hopeless at remembering close family birthdays, and friends’ birthdays stood even less chance of being remembered. I try harder these days.

When a good friend and ex-long-term flat mate then announced on our semi-regular WhatsApp call that she’d rather leave her pension fund to me than her own daughter, I wondered if there was an emerging pattern.

My friend’s daughter has moved far away and is therefore too distracted by her new life to consider either her mother or her retirement. Rather than gush my heartfelt appreciation and gratitude, I suggested a trust fund could be set up for her granddaughter or could I manage some kind of regular payment to her daughter perhaps?

All I’ve done is to be there for my mum and my friend. I was able to be there because I have no ties, other than an adult son, who is fully immersed in his IT engineer’s world. He does come up for air and over for dinner and a movie sometimes. When all the stars and planets are in alignment. And, in case he’s reading this, as I’ve said to him many many times, it’s okay, I understand his compulsion to work all the hours possible. It was the same for me, and my father before me.

Where my mother was concerned, I tried to convince her that my sister will actually need more than me in retirement. I tried even harder to persuade her to spend the equity on herself, to enjoy what she had worked so hard to build. Yet she seems quite determined to deprive herself of the fruits of her labours.

My decades of overwork resulted in a generous private pension as well as a state pension. Plus, I own half a property on a Cape Verdean island. My mum being my mum, revealed, on one of our fortnightly telephone calls that she had advised her solicitor to let me take the items that are in my old room in her house, and for the rest of her possessions and the house to go to an animal sanctuary charity.

I’d love to say, hand to heart, that my intentions where other people’s hard earned pensions and properties were and are altruistic. However, life is a struggle as a self-employed English as a Foreign Language coach by day and market research interviewer by night. Then finding time to fulfil my writing passion, my addiction to Netflix, as well as all the contact with good friends and family does take its toll. Squeeze in one to a couple of hours exercise per day and involvement with a local political party, someone else’s life's work resulting in a house or some savings would, indeed, be most welcome.

I don’t have it in me, though, to graciously and gratefully accept these well-intended gifts, not because I don’t want and need them, but because I don’t believe I’ve done anything to deserve them. My desire is that my mother and my good friend enjoy the spoils of their working lives.

If by any chance there’s anything left over and they want to leave it to me as a surprise, I’ll be grateful and accept.