My Shattered Lifeline Where All Insane People Congregate

This is how things went on after those last events.

I stopped talking to my relatives.

I called a topographist to assess the situation directly.

Of course, they found out.

They told to my mother that this is not a way to live in the same yard. They want to fix the problems in the documents.
They called other topographist to do the measurements. I asked him that we also want to be writing on the new documents, our right to use the well. He agreed. He left with my aunt to Zalau. Don’t know what they talked on the way, but one think is sure: the man did not make a sketch with a pass to the well. He just draws the well.
My aunt lifted the mortgage of the 46 stolen m.

My mother asked if the sketches are ready for them to sign the documents. Week after week a new problem appeared. Three months later she said that she doesn’t go back to the bank to lift the mortgage of the 2-m. of land where the well is. I said that is not acceptable to remake the documents without respecting the law.

She blackmailed my mother saying: “I will do nothing else. If you don’t want like this, take us to court.”

As you know, our justice functions slow and partially, when it functions at all. My mother is old and sick. She said that is better like this than nothing.

She signs again a bad document.

Wait for them to cut us the water supply!

Continue reading Sharing The Heritage: Part 6

This is the story of my family sharing a heritage, continued from here.

Instead of being received like the good relatives we’ve been, we automatically became the enemies. I still don’t understand why. We only use our land; we live in my grandparent’s house. Nothing to do with their house, their land, or their intimacy.
And because we were so good to them for 40 years, we received the following:

• When my mother went to Bucharest, they took advantage from the situation with my being alone and told me that I inherited a “shit”.
• They explained to me that my mother gave them the land to build the storehouse, the land to put the trees, which is more or less all we have, therefore, now I have nothing. Even at the moment when we were arguing, I stood “at their table, on their land”.

I replied that, they have to destroy their storehouse, in order for my, to place my own table, on my mother’s land.
I gave a call to my mother, in Bucharest, told her what was happening, and she told her sister that “is not everything owned by Ghilea family”.

After the conversation between the sisters, I told my aunt again that it will be better for them to move their storehouse on their land, so we can use our yard the way we like. It was the time for me to put an end of the humiliations they put me throw: for two month I had to wake up from the table three times a day. All this because I am the only smoker in the family. So, everytime I had to move my ashtray, my cigarettes, my lighter and my cup with water. Also, I was able to cook only when they didn’t use the kitchen. The new kitchen (the one my grandparents have was destroyed, being on their land

My mother put half of the money to build the new one, on a common land.

And the story goes on…

Continue reading Sharing The Heritage: Part 4

Do you remember that I started telling you my story of sharing my grandma’s heritage?

My father died and my mother is a pensioner now.

After the Romanian Revolution, the relatives I told you about became businessmen. In Romania, translate this by, stealing from the government and pretending you are working.

At first they didn’t make big money. That is the reason, they lent their apartment and move out in my grandparents house. A place with out door WC waters from the well. Not to mention that the house shakes at each trailer passing down the road.
They destroyed the well (witch was common property, according to the Romanian law), installed three sinks, a toilet in my grand parents house.

All those are improvements made in an inherited space, therefore both the proprietors are allowed to use. At least in our county, were the law is like this.

Three years later, they moved back to Zalau, the town they have the apartment in and started to make big money.
They decided to build a big house in the shared property. Before they asked my mother if she is selling her quarter from the yard, the rest of the lands, far away from the house being not interesting for them.

My mother denied the offer, saying that now, because she has no husband and no money, my grandparent’s house is the only place she can spend the summers. Especially with the terrible dust and hot summers in Bucharest.

Later, they asked again. The same answer. My aunt suggested for my mother to ask my brother and me if we want to sell. She intended to make a document in which it stipulates that my mother stays proprietary as long as she lives and then they will own our share.

Again, my mother refused the offer. We refused as well.

And guess what?

Continue reading Sharing The Heritage: Part 2

This is not an easy thing to do in a country where the law is optional.

After my grandmother died, all my grandparents’ belongings have been shared in four. My mother got, like the rest of her siblings, a quarter from the land, the house (a 65 year’s old house). All O.K. at the beginning.

I have to mention that we are talking about a country house, none of the children lived in, all of them having their apartments and their lives in different towns. We are living in Bucharest, at 550 km. from my grandparent’s house. I found out later that the distance worked in our disadvantage.

Few years later, two of the siblings sold their share from the house and from the land around the house to my mother’s sister.

We are talking about my aunt who was helped all her live, along with her family, by my mother.

By help I mean:

• My parents lent her money to by a car (refund was delayed years after the period agreed);
• Our apartment in Bucharest was everybody hotel in terms of us being wake up at 2 o clock in the middle of the night for 14 years, once a month, because my cousin (my aunt’s daughter) had business to do in Turkey and the bus arrived in Bucharest;
• For three years my aunt stood one month a year to us in order to give her exams;
• Four years, my other cousin (my aunt’s son) went to the University in Bucharest and came to us in order to eat (the food paid by his mother and cooked by mine);
• All of them came with their friends or sent them to us, whenever they needed a place to sleep in Bucharest: and they needed a lot to go for visas at the embassy, to go shopping, to go to the airport;
• My uncle needed the documents for a job transfer and my parents handled the documents, e.t.a.

Makes a long story short: for 40 years my parents did nothing else that helping everybody in my aunt family.

And what do you think it happened?

Continue reading Sharing The Heritage: Part 1