The idea to move Grandpa into a nursing home belonged to my mother. They could afford to pay for either a caregiver or a comfortable room and companionship for Grandpa with other elderly people right away, and he didn’t mind it himself. He used to feel lonely, so he was always trying to make friends and guests, he often invited us over, but with all the medication and his surgeries, it was much better to be under the constant supervision of competent people. Besides, Grandpa obviously liked it in the nursing home. As early as the first week, all my family and friends knew that he had moved out, and I was temporarily allowed to move into his apartment so that I wouldn’t have to pay rent.
Grandpa let me do the repairs, convincing me that I would be the one who would get the apartment in the future, and he wanted me to find a nice girl and live there with her as soon as possible. It was a wonderful gift. But not without surprises.
– Some people are already used to staying with me, so if anyone needs it urgently, let them stay in my room for a couple of days.
I couldn’t say no, it was his apartment, after all. And I didn’t think Grandpa had a backyard there, so I was sure that no one would ask. But at the end of March, my grandfather’s cousin came to visit. She came for a couple of days, to his granddaughter at the university to visit. So this granddaughter ended up staying with me, too.
My grandfather asked me to host his friend or some distant relative, but the last straw was his attempt to fix me up with some acquaintance of his, who was ten years older than me, and all the apartment looked at. So I told my grandfather that either he would stop asking people to stay with me, or I would move out. And he told me to move out.
So he would never refuse a favor to his friends, but he refused me, his grandson. It turns out that other people’s comfort is much more important to him than mine.
So let him do what he wants with the apartment-either go back and live there, or give his friends the key and let them live there for nothing, if he doesn’t feel sorry. I’d rather pay rent and know that the house was mine and no one would come in without asking, than to live with strangers and be on pins and needles all the time because of guests.
