My Shattered Lifeline Where All Insane People Congregate

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?