A Difficult Choice, but the Right One

A Difficult Choice, but the Right One

Until she turned seventy-five, Mildred Edwards had lived by herself in her little cottage on the edge of a quiet English village. Her husband had passed away fifteen years earlier. Her health had once been sturdy, but each year, she felt as if her strength was ebbing away.

– Now that Im past seventy, each year feels as if it counts for three, – she confessed to her daughter, Harriet, who usually visited alone but occasionally brought her husband Benedict. Mornings are the worst. I wake up all heavy-headed, pains here and there, aches in my legs and shoulders. Thats old age knocking, my girl.

This last year, things had truly taken a turn. Her back throbbed if she so much as looked at a broom, her swollen ankles pained her every evening, each breath came a little harder, and dizziness swept over her like sea mist. She never complained to Harriet, but a daughter senses these things. Harriet urged her mother to see a doctor, but Mildred would have none of itrubbing her sore knees with some warming salve, brewing odd herbal teas based on Mrs. Green’s advice from next door.

One day, though, Harriet arrived and saw her mother was unwellreally unwell.

– Thats it, Mum. Get your coat, were going to the doctor. Ive got the car out front.

Mildred did not protest this time; her aches and pains had become too much. The doctors found a whole host of problemsblood pressure, her joints, and her heart. The doctor, looking weary and resigned, sighed deeply:

– Mildred, you need rest and proper care. He looked at Harriet and emphasised Care. You mustnt lift heavy things, nor get yourself worked up. Good food, plenty of rest, and your medicinesI’ve written it all down.

Mildred nodded, but her thoughts spun:

– Rest, here in the countryside? Theres never been any. Theres always a heap of things to be done about the house and the garden. Harriet’s in town, wrapped up in her own affairs. And Benedict, really, is so busy with his business. How could they ever look after me?

Harriet understood the situation exactly. She had noticed how hard it was for her mother to even get out of bed, how her hands and knees shook, how she had faded over the last few months. No matter how she tried to disguise her suffering, her health forced the issue. As they left the clinic, Harriet quietly said:

– Mum, youve got to come live with us. I cant keep running back and forth to the village, nor help with the house like before. Well have to sell the house and get you settled in with us in town.

– But what about the cottage, my chickens, and Benedict?

– Benedict will cope, – Harriet replied resolutely. Well sell the chickens, cottage too; someone will snap them up. Ill drive you back now, so you can pack up. Well come to fetch you after.

Benedict did not quite cope, as Harriet had promised her mother. When Harriet broached the subject, he was incensed.

– Are you being serious? The house is already cramped, Alice moved out to start her own family, but they visit, and let’s not forget our grandson needs his space.

– Ben, shes my mother, shes been struggling for ages, and I should have brought her to the hospital sooner. Its on me.

– Your problem, not mine. I dont want to have to look after an old lady.

– Thats not just an old lady, its my motherhow would you feel if it was your own?

– Whoever it is, my mothers dead now, isnt she

Harriet pleaded, begged, and sobbed, but Benedict remained stone-faced. So, seeing he would not bend, she put her foot down.

– Im bringing Mum to live with us. And thats final.

Benedict snatched up his car keys and stormed out. He returned home late that night without a word.

Harriet set Mildred up in Alices old room. Alice was living with her own family in Manchester. Benedict carried on as if Mildred was invisible, barely speaking to his wife either. Mildred kept out of sight, so as not to trouble her son-in-law. The atmosphere bristled with unspoken words; Harriet knew a storm was brewing.

One evening Benedict called her into the kitchen.

– Harriet, this cant go on. I know you love your mother, but shes in the way. We feed her, her whole pension goes on expensive medication, were tripping over each other, and shes draining us. She needs to compensate ussell her cottage and give us the cash. At least that way were not out of pocket.

– But Ben, its our family home. My childhood is in those walls

– She should sell, or else…

– Or what? Divorce?

– Yes, perhaps. Ill have to consider it.

Harriet did love Bendespite his harshness and unfairnessyears together had dulled her awareness of his flaws. Yet, that night she sat down with Mildred.

– Mum, Im asking you this with a heavy heart. Would you mind selling your cottage?

Mildred flinched.

– Was this Benedicts idea?

– Yes but you cant stay there again, can you?

The cottage was sold in a flash; Benedict himself handled all the paperwork and pocketed every last pound.

– Ill invest it in the business, – he told Harriet stiffly.

When Mildred heard her home was sold, she sat quietly crying in Alices old room. She and her late husband had built that cottage from scratch, brick by brick. Meanwhile, Benedicts business took off, he started working even later hours, and the mood at home soured. Mildred did her best to go unnoticed.

One evening, Benedict came in with news.

– I’ve found us a brand new flathuge, lots of light, proper posh. We’ll sell this place, put the money towards the new one, bit of a top-up and we’re set. Its just five minutes from my office.

– Ben, but thatll add ninety minutes to my commute. Im on the busyou drive!

– Ah, your school job is nothing special. You can get another teaching job somewhere new, surely.

– Ive worked at my school for years, and Im not a girl anymoreI like my colleagues. What if the new schools no good? You never think of me; its not fair.

– The new flat is above and beyond this one. And if you wont come, stay here with your precious old lady. Im the one keeping a roof over your headshave you forgotten?

– Didnt I help get your business off the ground? That cottagethe money all went to you. Then theres this flatmy granddad left it to me… Have you forgotten who helped you start?

– That was ages ago, and your mothers draining us, what with her medication bills.

– So you think Mum should just be grateful you let her stay beneath your roof. Thats rich.

– Anyway, were moving; Im not wasting my life in traffic. Its up to youcome with me, or…

– Or whatdivorce?

– What choice do I have?

The next evening, Harriet trudged home from the supermarket with the weeks groceries. She paused by the door, hearing Benedicts sharp voice in the kitchen.

– Youll do as I say, – he was telling Mildred.

– Perhaps youre right, – Mildreds voice was barely a whisper, but what about Harriet

– Harriet doesnt need you as much as you think. Were tired of having you here. Tomorrow, well sort out the paperwork. Say nothing to Harriet. Later, when its done, tell her it was your decision. Understood?

– But shell see me packing…

– Ill bring your things later. Tell her it was your idea. When we move to the new flat, shell be too busy to deal with you. Youll be comfortablethere are homes for the elderly, after all. Thats where you belong.

– All right, Benedict, – Mildred agreed, voice barely audible.

At that, Harriet could keep silent no longer. She strode into the kitchen.

– Mums not leaving. Whatever youve planned, forget it. If anyones packing their bags, its you, Benedict.

Benedict faltered; he hadnt wanted his wife to hear that conversation. Hed hoped to pack Mildred off to a care home, out of sight, out of mind, so she wouldnt spoil his new flat.

Having overheard, Harriet felt the ground slip away beneath her feet. She acted at once, and filed for divorce. A heartbreaking decision, but the only right one. Soon, she faced court for the division of the flat and Benedicts business; Benedict flatly refused to reimburse the money from Mildreds cottage.

Benedict packed his things and left. Harriet stayed on with her mother, caring for Mildred without regretneither of them pined for the man of the house.

– At the end of the day, you shouldnt always try to preserve a family, – Harriet would say to friends and colleagues who looked surprised to learn she’d left her husband.