Some might say Im an ungrateful granddaughter who cant put up with her grandmother for a few months, but honestly, theres more to it. Im an adult now, independent, and have managed to save up enough to move into a new flat in London. I pay my rent, month after month, with my own money. I like living alone. I enjoy having my furniture just where I want it, all my things in their proper place, and the fridge stocked only with what I actually eat.
Everything changed the moment Gran moved in. She suffers from stomach trouble and needs frequent trips to the hospital, so shes staying here temporarily. The hospitals just around the corner, which is far more convenient than travelling in from her home in the countrysideespecially considering all her treatments happen twice daily. My flat, however, has never been so untidy.
Gran has her own ideas about rearranging my furniture. She dragged the sofa right under the window, claiming it opens up the space; shes rifled through all my kitchen cupboards, conducted a full audit on the shelves, and even decided to throw out the one I actually needed. Without even asking, she dove into my wardrobe, convinced I must have outgrown some clothes and tossed them without saying anything.
Once again, I feel as though Im twelve years old, being mothered and fed by Gran, though her meals are almost always heavy and unhealthy, insisting I eat because she spent hours preparing them.
She gets bored when Im out, but honestly, does she really need to meddle in my affairs and start redesigning my flat to suit herself? It was mine before she arrived, and it will still be mine after she leaves.
I dont want to upset her, and when I politely ask her not to move things around, she thinks Im just worrying about her health, forbidding her from tiring herself. In reality, I just dont want her touching or shifting my belongings.
I keep wonderingwhen will her treatment be finished and when will she finally return home?
