“The Further Apart, the Closer at Heart… ‘You know what, my dear grandson? If I’m such a problem…

The Further Away, the Closer I Feel…

“You know what, my dear grandson! If Im truly that much of a burden to you all, then theres only one option. I shant be going to my daughters anymore, nor trailing around after friends. And I absolutely do not need anyone finding me a companion in my twilight years. Just look at what youve come up with! Trying to marry me off at my age!”

“Gran, isnt that what Mum and I have been saying for ages? Move into an old folks homehonestly, just sort the house over to me, the council will get you a nice room, mum will handle the paperwork. You wont be on your own, therell be ladies to have a natter with, you wont be in my way, and the neighbours are decent.”

“Im going nowhere,” I told him flatly. “Listen, Sam. If Im so much trouble, you know where the door is. Youre young, cleverwhy not find a flat of your own and get on with your life? If you dont want to study, get a job. Bring a new girl home every day for all I care. Next month Ill be sixty-five, I need peace and quiet. Ive been shuffled about quite enough; time to return home. Its not right, my boy, you living here with your girlfriends off my pension, in my own house, and making me feel unwelcome.”

“My pension does not stretch forever. So, youve got a week. If you dont find a place, go crash with your pals or whichever girl youre seeingits Emma this week, isnt it?but see that youre out of my house by tonight. First you all try to pair me off, then pack me off to a care home! The cheek of it!”

My grandson sputtered on, but Id had enoughI shut the door to my room and left him in the hall. My head was pounding. I ought to take a tablet, but the kitchen meant crossing his path. Spying a nearly empty bottle of spring water on the side table, I thought, thatll do; just enough for a sip.

***

I surprised myself with how firm Id been. Two years of holding my tongue, rushing between my daughters on their every whim, and then, at the first hint, told not to overstay my welcome, shooed home like a troublesome pet.

And now my 20-year-old grandson lords it over my own cottageone week its Laura, the love of his life, next week its Sophie, and grandmas the nuisance, snoring through the wall and spoiling the ambiance.

“Gran, couldnt you go visit someone? Laura and I would like some time alone,” hed say. The girls name changed weekly: Alice, Jessica, Megan, take your pick. So off Id trundle, to my cousins or to an old friend, staying late so as not to interrupt the young ones.

But after going two or three times each week, I could see the excitement of my visits wearing thin. I realised even those closest to me felt chained by my company.

***

Just as I ran out of places to visit, my eldest daughter had her baby. London life, a mortgage, a schoolboy and a newbornno room for an extended maternity leave. My help was needed more than ever.

So off I went, cooking proper dinners, scrubbing the flat, watching the little ones. To begin with, everyone was all smiles, but after a few months, my son-in-law, whos only ten years my junior, began huffing and tutting.

“Mary, dont buy those sausagesdangerous chemicals. And why are we living on sausages anyway? Youre home all day, surely you could serve up something proper, like a decent cottage pie.”

“Mary, home-cooked is great, but theres no need to tear through my wallet for groceries and cleaning sprays. We must make ends meet, you know!”

“Mary, am I a cow to graze on salads? A bit more roast wouldnt go amiss!”

And so on. If youre keeping our kids, can’t you also tutor the eldest? Why pay for lessons with a healthy grandmother on hand?

Even phone calls were frowned uponhow dare I chit-chat and disturb the house. The eldest grandchild, only 9 but already full of attitude, mocked my frumpy cardis and grumbled when I helped with her spelling.

“Why are you even here, Gran? Youve got your place in the countrygo there and boss someone else.”

I bit my tongue, tightened the purse strings to pay for meat and pocket moneycompensation for my embarrassmentand even transferred what was left for Sams bills.

Complaining to my daughter was pointless; shed side with him. Its not easy bagging a man with a family wholl tolerate two small children late in life

Sometimes, when he was out, my daughter would whisper, “Bear with it, Mum, its best for me.”

Once the youngest started nursery, my presence was surplus to requirements. My son-in-law was blunt: “Thanks, Mary, were fine now. Time to go home.” I didnt need telling twice and caught the first train back, thrilled to have my own four walls again. Or so I thought.

No sooner had I arrived than I found Sam, my eldests son, fully ensconced in my cottagewith a girlfriend in tow. The house was a tip, bills unpaid, the electric on the verge of being cut, water at risk. Nothing for it but to take out a small loan and sort out the mess.

At last, order restored, my grandson was put out. Its only two rooms and a tiny kitchenno privacy, and a bothersome grandmother who wont stop coughing. Then, before I could blink, my youngest calledshe was pregnant and wanted help.

What could I say? I packed up and went, but after three months I saw I was wearing out my welcome again. I left before anyone had the chance to ask.

Life returned to normal: cleaning up, keeping on top of billsat least there were no new debts. But the silence didnt last. My apparently intrusive presence was too much for Sam.

***

“Sam, Im off to see Margaret, its her birthday. Ill be home late, use the back door so I wont disturb you.”

“Why not stay the night? Youll be stomping about waking us. Give us a breather, stay away a couple of days, would do us good.”

“But Ive only been back a week!”

“A weeks a long time.”

I went, resolved to return home that night, though the party was a lovely distraction. We reminisced, gossiping about schooldays, avoiding the subject of our troubles. When I was about to head home, Margarets phone rang. She stepped out to chat, then returned quietly.

“Its your daughter, Annadont call her, everythings fine. She just asked if youd stay here tonight.”

“Why? I told Sam Id be home!”

“Sam wants the house to himself. Anna reckons itll do you both gooda bit of space. Besides, you can fill me in on your lot.”

“Nothing to say, really. All is well.”

“Come off it, Mary. When things are fine, children dont ring asking you to shelter their mother. Last week, Anna asked if Id heard of any widowed men with a flatthought you might move in with one, since you wont go to a care home. She reckons Sam needs to settle, and youre in the way.”

So I told Margaret everything: the trouble at Annas, how I put everyone out, and Sams moaningtwo years now, and Ive always been the outsider in my own home.

“Im not the mistress of my own house, Margaret. Soon as Sam left school, he moved in with Anna, but her husband made it clear he wasnt wanted, so Sam came back here. Never served, never went to college. I supported him until he was eighteen, then my daughter stopped sending money. Now, hes become my burden.”

I didnt stay overnight, thoughcaught the late bus home. And that very night, I finally spoke my mind to Sam.

True to form, he called Anna to complain that Id lost my marbles, throwing him out. Anna called to scold mebut I told her exactly what Id told him.

So, Sam moved out, vowing never to step foot back in my house nor offer help. I was alone at last, but it was a relieffinally, peace. For so many years, Id shaped my days to others.

As a young widow, I did everything myself. I meant well, but it only made everyone take me for granted.

It isnt right, being made an outcast in your own home when youre old. What sort of life is it if youre unwanted under your own roof?

In time, Sam came to his senses and apologised. Id forgiven him long beforebut I didnt invite him back to live. “Visit whenever you want, Sam, but we wont live together. Youve opportunities ahead; I need peace now.”

My daughters ask me roundhelp with the little ones, you knowbut I wont go anymore. “Bring the children here,” I say. “Theres fresh air, and Im calmer in my own home. Here, Im in charge; nobody bosses me around.”

The further away I am, the closer I feel to them, and somehow, I think Im finally right.