Sunday was a day of absolute peace. Linda and I went to church in the morning, something I hadn’t been able to do in years because Sundays were when Grace organized her big family breakfasts, and I had to cook for everyone.
Afterwards, we walked through the flea market, looking at second-hand furniture and things for the house. I found a small but beautiful dining table made of solid wood for only $80. The seller helped me load it into the taxi. I also bought a set of pots in good condition for $30, some plates and glasses, and towels for the bathroom.
Linda insisted on buying me a new set of sheets she saw in a store. «So you can start your new life with new, clean sheets with no history,» Linda said as she paid, and I couldn’t help but cry again, but this time from emotion. We stored everything in the storage unit of Linda’s building, waiting for the day I could move into my new apartment. Everything I bought, every object I set aside for my new life, was another step towards my freedom.
On Monday morning, I met with the lawyer, Linda’s cousin’s son. His name was Ferdinand, a man of about 45, serious but kind. He reviewed all my documents, verified the legal status of the apartment, and explained each step of the process.
«Mrs. Josephine, everything is in order. The apartment has no debts, no liens. Mr. Benjamin is the sole legitimate owner. We can close the sale next Friday. Are you sure you want to pay in cash? You could get a mortgage if you prefer not to use up so much of your capital,» Ferdinand explained.
«No, I want to pay in cash. I want it to be completely mine. No debts, no mortgage. I’ve waited my whole life for this moment,» I said with conviction.
«I understand. Then on Friday at 10 in the morning, we’ll meet here in my office to sign the deeds. You’ll need to bring the payment for $50,000 plus $5,000 for notary fees and taxes. The $5,000 down payment you already made will be deducted from the total,» Ferdinand explained, showing me all the papers.
$55,000 in total, less than half of my savings. I could do it. And I would.
I left the law office feeling stronger than ever. I walked through the city, observing everything with new eyes. The shops, the parks, the buildings. Everything looked different when you knew you were building your own life and not just surviving in someone else’s.
When I got back to Linda’s apartment, I briefly turned on my phone to check messages. Edward had sent only one more, and the tone had completely changed. «Mom, I talked to Grace. She’s willing to apologize if you do too. We can forget this whole misunderstanding if you come home today. We miss you. The house isn’t the same without you. Please think carefully before you make a mistake you can’t reverse.»
A mistake I can’t reverse. As if buying my own home was a mistake. As if reclaiming my dignity was something to regret. As if 20 years of feeling invisible wasn’t the real mistake. I didn’t reply. I had nothing more to say to him for the moment.
The next few days passed in a mix of nerves and excitement. Linda and I continued buying things for my apartment. A small but comfortable sofa we found at a garage sale for $120. A used but excellent condition queen-size bed for $200. A slim bookcase. Some lamps, simple curtains.
I also went to the bank to arrange everything for the payment. The teller, a young woman named Ramona, was very patient with me as I got the cashier’s check for $55,000.
«Ma’am, this is a considerable amount. Are you sure this is a legitimate transaction? We don’t want you to be a victim of fraud,» Ramona said with genuine concern.
«It’s not fraud, dear. I’m buying my first home at 68,» I replied with pride.
Ramona smiled broadly. «That’s beautiful, ma’am. Congratulations. My grandmother also bought her house at 70 after divorcing my grandfather. She told me they were the best years of her life,» Ramona shared as she processed the check.
Her words gave me hope. It wasn’t too late. It was never too late to start over.
On Thursday night, the day before signing the deed, Edward showed up at Linda’s building. I don’t know how he got the address. He probably found out through an acquaintance or followed some clue. He buzzed the intercom insistently until Linda answered.
«Who is it?» Linda asked in a dry tone.
«It’s Edward, Josephine’s son. I need to speak with my mom,» I heard his voice through the small speaker.
Linda looked at me, asking with her eyes what I wanted to do. I took a deep breath. «Let him come up, but you stay here with me.» And Linda nodded.
Minutes later, Edward was knocking on the apartment door. When I opened it, I was surprised to see him looking so worn out. He had deep dark circles under his eyes. His clothes were wrinkled. His hair was messy. He didn’t look like the successful engineer he pretended to be.
«Mom,» he said, and his voice broke a little.
«Edward,» I replied without moving from the doorway, without inviting him in.
«Can we talk?» he asked, looking inside the apartment where Linda stood with her arms crossed like a guardian.
«Here is fine,» I said.
Edward sighed and ran a hand through his hair. «Mom, this got out of control. I know Grace and I were wrong. We shouldn’t have taken your card without permission, but you didn’t have to leave like that, without warning, leaving us worried,» Edward began with that tone he used when he wanted to seem reasonable, but was really just trying to manipulate.
«Edward, I left you a note explaining exactly why I was leaving. It wasn’t impulsive. It was necessary,» I replied, keeping calm.
«But Mom, we’re family. Families forgive each other. Families solve their problems together. Not by running away,» Edward said, taking a step closer.
«Families also respect each other, Edward. And you haven’t respected me in years. It’s just that I was so used to the mistreatment that I stopped noticing,» I said, feeling the words come out with more force than I expected.
«Mistreatment? Mom, we never mistreated you. We gave you a roof, food, everything you needed,» Edward protested, raising his voice.
«You gave me a room the size of a pantry. You made me feel like every bite of food I ate was a favor. You treated me like a maid and not a mother. And when I saved money from 40 years of work, you tried to steal it,» I said, and each word was like releasing a weight I had carried for too long.
«We weren’t going to steal anything! It was just going to be some things for the house where you also live. It’s not stealing, Mom. It’s sharing as a family,» Edward shouted, losing his composure.
«$82,000 isn’t sharing, Edward. It’s stealing. And I never authorized that expense,» I replied without raising my voice, which seemed to frustrate him even more.
«Fine, okay. I admit it was a lot. Grace got excited seeing all those things on sale. But we can fix this. Come home, and I promise that none of this will ever happen again,» Edward said, changing tactics now with a pleading tone.
«I’m not coming back, Edward. Tomorrow, I sign the deed to my new apartment. I’m moving this weekend. I’ve already made my decision,» I said, and I saw his face go from pleading to shock.
«You already bought an apartment? Without consulting me? Mom, that’s crazy. What if you got scammed? What if it’s a bad deal? I should have checked those things with you,» Edward said, almost panicking.
«I have a notary, a lawyer, everything is legal and verified. I didn’t need your permission, Edward. I’m a 68-year-old adult with full mental capacity. I can make my own decisions,» I explained patiently.
Edward was silent for a moment, processing what I had just told him. I saw his eyes darting around quickly, calculating, thinking about his next move.
«And the money? How much do you have left after buying that apartment?» he asked. And there it was, the real reason for his visit. He wasn’t here for me. He was here for my money.
«That’s none of your business, Edward,» I replied firmly.
«Of course it’s my business! I’m your son, your only family. I have a right to know how you’re managing your finances. At your age, you can make errors and judgment,» Edward said with that patronizing tone that bothered me so much.
«At my age, I have more experience and wisdom than you. I’ve managed my money for 40 years without making mistakes. I’m not going to start now,» I said, crossing my arms.
«Mom, let’s be honest. That money is also a little bit mine. I’ve supported you for 20 years. I’ve given you a house, food, utilities. That has a value. If we calculate it, I probably owe you little to nothing,» Edward said. And his words hit me like a bucket of ice water.
Linda stepped forward from inside the apartment. «Young man, I think it’s time for you to leave. You heard your mother. She’s made her decision, and you have no right to her money,» Linda intervened with a firm voice.
«You stay out of this, ma’am. This is between my mom and me,» Edward replied rudely.
«This is my house, and I can get involved whenever I please. And I’m going to ask you to leave right now, or I’m calling security,» Linda said, taking out her phone.
Edward looked at me with a mixture of anger and desperation. «Is this what you want, Mom? To break up our family, to let strangers get between us?» he asked, pointing at Linda.
«Linda is not a stranger. She’s been my friend for 40 years. She’s been by my side in times when you didn’t even exist. And no, Edward, I’m not breaking up the family. The family broke when you stopped seeing me as your mother and started seeing me as your ATM,» I said, feeling tears threaten to spill, but I held them back.
«I can’t believe you’re doing this. Grace was right about you. She said you were selfish, that you only thought about yourself, and I defended you. What a fool I was,» Edward said with venom in every word.
Those words hurt more than I wanted to admit, but they also confirmed what I already knew. Grace had poisoned my son against me for years, and he had let her.
«If that’s what you think of me, then it’s better that I get out of your life. I don’t want to be a burden to anyone,» I said with a trembling voice.
«Fine, perfect. Go to your apartment, live alone, but don’t come running when you get sick or need help. Don’t come back when you realize you’ve made a mistake,» Edward said, turning to leave.
«Edward,» I called out, and he stopped without turning around. «I love you. I’ll always love you. You’re my son. But I can no longer live sacrificing my dignity for your comfort. I hope one day you understand that.»
Edward didn’t reply. He just kept walking towards the elevator. I watched him get in, press the button, and disappear behind the closing doors. And with those doors, a chapter of my life also closed.
Linda hugged me as I finally allowed myself to cry. I cried for the 20 lost years, for the broken relationship with my son, for the family that could have been but never was. But I also cried with relief because I knew I had made the right decision, even though it hurt.
I barely slept that night. I tossed and turned on the sofa bed, replaying the conversation with Edward, questioning if I had been too harsh, wondering if I should have given him another chance. But every time I thought about going back, I remembered the 20 years of small and large humiliations. I remembered the attempted theft. I remembered all the times they made me feel invisible.
No, I couldn’t go back. For the first time in my life, I had to choose myself.
Friday dawned sunny and beautiful, as if the universe was celebrating with me. Linda and I dressed in our best clothes. She insisted on accompanying me to the lawyer’s office.
«This is one of the most important days of your life, Josephine. You’re not going to live it alone,» Linda said as she put on her cream-colored silk blouse, the one she reserved for special occasions.
We arrived at the office 15 minutes early. Mr. Benjamin was already there, along with Ferdinand, the lawyer. They both greeted us with smiles.
«Good morning, Mrs. Josephine. Ready to be a homeowner?» Ferdinand asked warmly.
«More than ready,» I replied with a huge smile.
The process took almost two hours. I had to sign so many papers I lost count. Deeds, certificates, affidavits, receipts. Ferdinand patiently explained each document, making sure I understood exactly what I was signing.
When it was time to hand over the $50,000 check, my hand trembled slightly. It was almost everything I had. But I looked at Linda, who was smiling at me with pride, and I remembered why I was doing this. I placed the check on the table.
Mr. Benjamin reviewed it, nodded in satisfaction, and Ferdinand officially processed it.
«Very well, Mrs. Josephine. With this, we complete the transaction. This apartment is now legally yours. Here are the deeds with your name, the keys, and the building documents. Congratulations on your new home,» Ferdinand said, handing me a thick envelope with all the papers and a keychain with three keys.
I took the keys in my hand and held them as if they were the most valuable treasure in the world. And to me, they were. Those keys represented freedom, dignity, independence. They represented the end of a dark chapter and the beginning of something new.
«Thank you, Ferdinand. Thank you, Mr. Benjamin. You don’t know what this means to me,» I said, my voice breaking with emotion.
«Believe me, I do, Mrs. Josephine. I’ve seen many transactions in my life, but few with as much emotional weight as this one. I hope you’ll be very happy in your new home,» Ferdinand said with sincerity.
We left the lawyer’s office, and Linda practically screamed with excitement on the street. «You did it! You own your own home! At 68, you’ve taken your life back!» she shouted as she hugged me, and we spun around on the sidewalk like two crazy little girls.
People passing by looked at us curiously. Some smiled at our joy. An elderly woman stopped and asked what we were celebrating.
«I just bought my first apartment,» I told her with pride.
«Oh, how wonderful! Congratulations, dear. It’s never too late to fulfill your dreams,» the woman said with a warm smile before continuing on her way.
Linda and I went straight to the apartment. I wanted to see it again now that it was officially mine. I opened the door with trembling hands, put the key in the lock, turned it, and pushed.
The apartment was exactly as I remembered it. Empty, smelling clean, filled with light pouring in through the large window. But now it looked different. Now it wasn’t just a nice space. It was my space. My home.
I walked slowly through every corner, touching the walls, imagining where I would put each piece of furniture, visualizing my life there. The table by the window where I would have coffee every morning. The sofa in front of the TV where I would rest without fear of someone telling me I was in the way. The bed in my room where I would sleep in peace.
«It’s perfect, Josephine. It’s absolutely perfect,» Linda said with tears in her eyes.
«Yes, it is,» I replied, also crying, but this time from pure happiness.
We spent the rest of the day cleaning the apartment from top to bottom, even though it was already quite clean. But I wanted it to be spotless before I brought my things in. Linda brought cleaning supplies, rags, brooms, and we worked together like in the old days when we were young and cleaned other people’s houses.
