The phone rang at seven in the morning, just as Lidia had just gotten up and was heading to the kitchen to put the kettle on. She looked at the screen and frowned: it was her little sister, Olalla.

Hey, Oli, what’s up? You know I’m not fully awake yet.

“Lidia, come to Mom’s house quickly!” Olalla’s voice sounded agitated. “I’ve already decided everything and the paperwork is ready. We’re going to sell her apartment and move her into a nice nursing home.”

Lidia almost dropped her phone.

What are you saying? What residence? I don’t understand anything!

Don’t pretend you don’t see it! Mom’s not well anymore. Yesterday she left the gas on, and the day before yesterday the neighbor found her on the landing because she couldn’t remember which floor she lived on. This can’t go on like this!

Oli, wait. Let’s talk calmly. What papers have you prepared?

A power of attorney to sell the apartment. Mom signed it herself. I explained it was for her own good.

Lidia felt anger rising inside her.

Have you gone crazy? How could you do this without consulting me? Mom has two daughters, by the way!

“And where have you been all this time?” Olalla retorted. “You come here once a week for an hour and you think you’re doing your duty? I come here every afternoon, I take her groceries, I make sure she takes her pills!”

I work from dawn to dusk, you know that! And I don’t live around the corner like you do!

Exactly! That’s why I decide what’s best for Mom. Come if you want to say goodbye to the apartment. The real estate agent is coming tomorrow to appraise it.

Olalla hung up. Lidia stood in the middle of the kitchen, unable to believe what she had just heard. Her younger sister, whom she had always seen as a spoiled child, had made a decision that affected their seventy-five-year-old mother without consulting anyone.

Lidia dressed quickly and headed to her mother’s house. Along the way, she recalled how, after her father’s death, she, as the oldest, had been the one who took care of everything: helping out financially, solving problems, taking her to the doctor. Meanwhile, Olalla finished college, without any major worries.

Her mother’s apartment was on the fourth floor of an old building. Lidia went up the stairs and knocked on the door. Her mother, Rosario, a petite woman with bright brown eyes, opened it.

“Lidia, darling!” he was delighted to see her. “You’re so early! Is something wrong?”

Mom, we need to talk. Seriously.

They entered the kitchen. Rosario put the kettle on and took some muffins out of the cupboard.

Mom, tell me about yesterday. What did you do?

Rosario frowned.

I got up, had breakfast… Then Olalla came over. We talked about something… She brought me some papers.

What papers, Mom?

I don’t remember exactly. He said it was important to me. That I had to sign it.

And you signed?

Of course. Olalla knows these things. She’s an economist.

Lidia clenched her fists. Her mother had lost her memory, yes, but that didn’t mean she’d lost the right to decide about her own life.

Mom, do you remember what else Olalla talked about?

Something about a nursing home. That I’d be better off there, that they’d take care of me… But I don’t want to leave here, Lidia. This is my home.

Rosario’s eyes filled with tears. Lidia hugged her.

You’re not going anywhere, Mom. I won’t allow it.

At that moment, the doorbell rang. It was Olalla, an energetic forty-three-year-old woman dressed in a business suit.

“Oh, you’re here,” he said when he saw Lidia. “Good. Now we can talk like adults.”

“Like adults?” Lidia stood up from the table. “You call cheating on a defenseless older woman an adult?”

I didn’t fool anyone! Mom signed the power of attorney voluntarily.

Mom didn’t understand what she was signing!

“By the way, Mom’s here!” Rosario chimed in. “And enough of this yelling in my house!”

The sisters fell silent. When Rosario raised her voice, they all obeyed her.

Olalla, explain to me again what papers I signed yesterday.

Olalla sat next to her mother and took her hand.

Mom, it’s a power of attorney to sell the apartment. And I’ve found a lovely residence for you. Clean, with a doctor, healthy food… You’d have your own room, and we could visit you whenever we wanted.

“But I don’t want to sell the apartment,” Rosario whispered. “My whole life is here. Your father lived here.”

Mom, understand that you’re not safe alone. You could leave the gas on, fall, and no one would even notice.

I have neighbors. I have you.

The neighbors aren’t family. And we work. Lidia lives on the other side of town, and I can’t be here all the time either.

Lidia couldn’t contain herself.

Oli, we can hire a babysitter. Or I’ll take her home.

A caregiver costs a lot. And you live in a tiny apartment, where would you put her?

We’ll find a way!

“The way?” Olalla raised her voice. “Lidia, stop pretending to be the perfect daughter! Do you want Mom to live in your hole, sleeping on the couch? Or for me to continue being torn between work, my family, and coming here every day?”

I didn’t ask you to split up!

No? So who was supposed to take care of it? Did you think Mom would take care of herself?

Rosario stood up.

Girls, go home. I need to think about it.

Mom… Olalla began.

Go, I said. We’ll talk tomorrow.

The sisters left the apartment and went down to the patio.

“Lidia, understand me, I’m not doing this out of malice,” Olalla said when they were alone. “I’m really worried about Mom.”

Are you worried? Then why didn’t you ask me?

What would have changed? You would have objected, we would have argued for months, and meanwhile, Mom could have burned herself alive.

Olalla, you had no right to decide alone!

Yes, I did! Because I’m the only one who really cares. You come as if for a visit: have a quick tea and leave.

That’s not true!

Yes, it is! When Mom was in the hospital last year, who was with her? Me! Who buys her pills? Me! Who brings her groceries? Me too!

Lidia was going to protest, but she realized that Olalla was right about a lot of things.

“Okay,” he said. “Let’s say you help more. But that doesn’t give you the right to decide where he lives!”

And what do you propose? Wait for something serious to happen?

I propose we find a solution between the two of us.

Olalla sighed.

Lidia, it’s decided. The agent is coming tomorrow. The residency is available next week.

Cancel everything!

I won’t. Enough with the delays.

Olalla headed toward her car. Lidia called after her:

Finally, after much discussion and tears, they found a balance: Lidia moved in temporarily with her mother, Olalla helped out on weekends, and they hired a daycare provider, discovering that sometimes the solution isn’t choosing between extremes, but finding a middle ground that respects everyone’s wishes.

 The house is not for sale

Lidia woke up several times that night. Her mother’s face, confused but determined not to leave her home, was in her head. She got up at six, without having slept a wink, and wrote down in a notebook what they needed: a caregiver in the mornings, remodeling the bathroom, installing a gas detector… As the coffee boiled, she felt something she hadn’t felt in a long time: clarity.

At eight-thirty, she was back at her mother’s house. Rosario opened the curtains in her usual blue robe.

“Are you coming for it?” he said, half joking.

I’m here to take care of you, Mom. And to stay here for a while, if you’ll let me.

Rosario remained silent for a few seconds.

And your house? And your job?

I’ll ask to work remotely for a while. I’ve already spoken to my boss. I owe it to you now.

Rosario looked at her, as if trying to read her soul.

And Olalla?

That’ll help too. On weekends. And I’ve found a lady who can come help you in the mornings. Her name is Julia. She’s friendly, experienced, and lives nearby. How does that sound?

Rosario smiled for the first time in days.

I think so. But on one condition: no more babysitting me. I can still do a lot of things on my own.

“Deal,” Lidia said, hugging her.

That afternoon, Olalla arrived with a serious expression. Lidia greeted her at the door with a coffee.

“The real estate agent was already on his way,” Olalla said. “I had to cancel.”

“Thanks,” Lidia replied. “I’ve decided to stay here for a while. Mom isn’t leaving.”

“I can’t leave everything in your hands alone,” Olalla lowered her voice. “I care about both of them. I just… didn’t know how to do it right.”

“None of us knew,” Lidia admitted. “But now we have to learn.”

They remained silent for a few seconds, and for the first time in a long time, that silence wasn’t aggressive. It was necessary.

“Do you want to stay for dinner?” Lidia asked.

Only if Mom makes her usual omelet.

Rosario, from the kitchen, shouted:

And with onion, as God intended!

The sisters laughed.

The following days passed calmly. Julia, the caregiver, quickly gained Rosario’s trust. Lidia adapted her routine. Olalla remained involved, without giving orders, without disappearing. It was a new beginning, more fragile, more sincere.

One Sunday, Rosario showed them a notebook with crooked but firm handwriting. She had begun to write her memoirs: “So that when I forget, you’ll remember me.”

And on the first page, a sentence in capital letters:

“THIS HOUSE IS NOT FOR SALE.”

END. 🌼