After Cecile’s husband, Henry, passes on, she seeks solace by moving into her son’s house. But when she gets there, her daughter-in-law makes her choose between their dark and unwelcoming basement and a nursing home. What happens when Cecile decides on another option altogether?
Losing a partner after forty years of marriage is traumatizing. Loneliness is felt immediately, but it becomes all the more consuming as time goes on. When Henry, my husband, died of a heart attack, I felt this sense of loneliness harder than anything else.
The grief took over, and all I wanted was to be around family. I have two sons, Jack and Edward – Edward moved to Oxford straight out of college because he was awarded the opportunity to further his studies. He calls me every evening just to chat about our days. Jack, on the other hand, lives not too far away from me. He is married to Lucy and has a son named after my husband.
So, now that I’m all alone in this big house Henry bought when we were just starting our family, I’ve been trying to decide whether to sell the house or live with Jack, as he offered, or move out by myself.I decided to try living with Jack. It would be the most comforting thing. But little did I know, Lucy had other plans for my accommodation. I asked my niece to pack up the place while I settled into my new home with Jack and his family. So, I was at their doorstep, suitcases at my feet
. Ready to take on the role of a live-in mother and grandmother — taking over the kitchen whenever Lucy needed me. Lucy came to open the door, a mug of coffee in her hand, and told me that their house was bursting at the seams with the limited space and that the only room available was Henry Jr.’s room. But she wasn’t about to upset the room and change it in any way. It was for Henry when he returned from his semester at college. I understood that. It was his space, and I didn’t want to be a burden.
But I had assumed that Jack would have sorted something out for me — he was the one who asked me to move in if I needed it. “Cecile, we’ve got a bit of a space issue, as you can see,” Lucy repeated. “You’ve got two options,” she continued. “There is the basement, or there’s a nursing home. Your call, grandma.” Talk about a rock and a hard place. Now, let me tell you about their basement.
It’s not the basement you may find in some homes — there’s no converted space for gaming, sewing, or arts and crafts. It’s not a den or cozy room for guests. Jack’s basement is more of a cold, humid dungeon with a bedframe that sighed at every move and a mattress with sharp springs. This was not the comfort I needed.”Lucy,” I said, shuffling my weight from one foot to the other.
“I appreciate the options, dear. But I’ll pass on the basement and nursing home combo.” Cue to my son — trying to play the peacemaker. He came up from behind Lucy, his arm around her waist. “Mom, I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinking when I invited you to stay. Lucy has a point. We’re tight on space. I promise to get some furniture for the basement to make it comfortable for you.” A basement life wasn’t for me. A nursing home wasn’t for me — at least not yet. So, I just took matters into my own hands.
I dragged my suitcases to the car and drove to my niece’s home. I stayed there for a week while looking for a place I could buy. The house was already on the market, and once it was sold, I knew I would have more than enough money to buy a small place for myself. When everything was settled, my niece helped me move in, and I felt empowered. Maybe I didn’t need family as much as I thought I did.
Edward was worried about me being alone, but I reassured him I would be fine. I moved into the new apartment soon after – a cozy one-bedroom, perfect for me and the cat I hoped to adopt. The bonus was that it came fully furnished, so I didn’t have to worry about anything.
Then, Jack phoned and asked me to dinner with him and Lucy. I drove to their home, wondering what they expected from me. We sat down for dinner, and I told them I had bought an apartment and lived there alone. “I thought you were staying with Mia,” Jack said, referring to my niece.”You can’t be serious!” Lucy exclaimed at the same time. “I did stay with Mia until I moved. I needed my own space.”
“You said that you want to be around family, so I offered,” Jack said, turning red. “Yes, but if it meant being shipped off to a nursing home or having to stay in your basement, I think I’m better off alone.” Then, I left. A few weeks later, I adopted my cat. But I also rewrote my will, leaving everything to Edward, who continues putting money into my account every month, even though I told them I didn’t need it.
“A son must help his Mom,” he said. He also asked me if I wanted to move abroad with him — but how could I? I needed to be close to where Henry rests, at least for now. So, from basement dilemmas to a cozy haven of my own, life certainly throws you for a loop. If your child gave you those options, what would you have done? Here’s another story for you: Elizabeth placed her father in a nursing home and never saw him again. She only visited him at his funeral. But the young woman’s karma caught up with her and taught her a harsh lesson when she received a letter from him after his death…
Rats in the Toilet: This is What You Should Do Immediately
Nightmare! Total nightmare! I really don’t know how else to think or write about this. Rats in the toilet? Just the thought sends shivers down my spine, and honestly, I don’t even want to entertain the idea, let alone experience this scenario firsthand. After hearing a few urban legends, I was curious (and terrified), so I started asking around. My friends were just as skeptical and freaked out. “No way that can happen,” they laughed. But guess what? It’s not a myth.
Rats can, indeed, make their grand entrance right into your toilet, and just knowing this fact was enough for me to dive deep into a frenzy of worrying and researching. Like, what in the world would I do if I encountered a rat in my toilet? The first thing that pops into my mind is to run. But realistically, so would the rat—potentially after me! Clearly, I needed better solutions. So here’s the lowdown on what I discovered…
First Things First: Can Rats Really Swim Up Our Toilets?
Absolutely, yes. Rats in the toilet aren’t just some horror movie fiction; they’re a startling reality. These creatures are surprisingly adept swimmers. They can hold their breath for up to three minutes and tread water for as long as three days. They can even squeeze into spaces as tiny as a quarter. The usual route for these sewer-loving swimmers begins in your home’s main sewer line. They shimmy up, navigating through the narrow urban waterways, and presto, they pop up in your toilet like a grotesque surprise in a jack-in-the-box.
How Do They Do It?
Well, it turns out rats are attracted to the scents of food and waste that linger in our sewer lines. They explore these lines by squeezing through the smallest of cracks and climbing inside the vent stacks that lead to the roofs of buildings. Once they find a drainpipe that leads downward toward a toilet, it’s merely a matter of paddling upwards and making a grand entrance right into the porcelain throne.
Encounter of the Rodent Kind
Imagine this: it’s the dead of night, you’re groggily making your way to the bathroom, and as you flip on the light, there it is—a rat, casually lounging in your toilet bowl. What do you do? Well, after my initial instinct to sell the house and move to a rat-free island subsides, here’s the more rational action plan I put together after consulting with every expert source I could find:
Keep Your Cool: Panicking will likely scare the rat, potentially driving it to seek refuge in even less accessible parts of your home.
Contain the Situation: Quickly close the toilet lid to prevent its escape and place something heavy on top. Rats can be surprisingly strong, and the last thing you want is a chase scene in your bathroom.
Dial for Help: This is definitely a situation for the professionals. Pest control can manage the situation with the right equipment and safety protocols.
Handling a Deceased Visitor: If the rat isn’t alive, wear gloves to remove it from the bowl, place it in a sealed bag, and dispose of it properly. Don’t forget to disinfect every surface within a mile radius (okay, maybe just the bathroom).
Flushing is a No-Go: Whether it’s dead or alive, flushing the rat is a bad idea. It’s inhumane if it’s living, and could cause significant plumbing issues either way.
Prevent Future Uninvited Guests: After handling the immediate crisis, consider installing a non-return valve in your sewer system. This gadget allows waste to exit but prevents rodents from entering.
Regular Checks: Keep an eye on your plumbing to ensure there are no easy entry points for future intruders. Make sure all pipes and vents are secure and in good repair.
As for me, since learning all this, I’ve been extra vigilant. Maybe I’m checking the toilet a bit too obsessively before each use, but hey, can you blame me? And about that idea of moving out? Well, let’s just say my browsing history has seen a significant increase in real estate listings.
So, do you believe it now? —rats in your toilet aren’t just an urban myth but a potential reality. But with the right knowledge and precautions, you can prevent these terrifying scenarios and tackle them with confidence if they do arise. Stay alert, stay informed, and maybe keep a heavy book near the bathroom, just in case.
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