From Life. “My Brother Sold the Family Home”: Even Though He Promised We'd Share It

After our parents died, the house became a symbol of everything that was important to us.

I am sitting in the place where our family home used to stand. There is silence all around, only the wind rustling through the trees. The house where we grew up, where our lives had taken place for years, had been sold. There was only emptiness left – in this place and in my heart. My brother, the one I trusted implicitly, had sold it despite the promise that it would belong to both of us.

After our parents died, the house became a symbol of everything that was important to us. It was here that we celebrated every holiday, where we experienced joy and sadness. When our parents passed away, they asked us to take care of this house, to keep it as a place where the family could always come together.

– „It'll be ours, we'll divide it in half,– said Tomek, my brother, right after Mom's funeral.
I agreed without hesitation. Tomek had always been my rock. Older, more decisive, he always knew what to do. I believed he'd keep his word.

A few months ago, Tomek called me with unexpected news.

– „I sold the house, Anka. I had to. There were too many expenses, and you rarely came here anyway.”

I lost my breath for a moment. How could he do that? How could he make such a decision without consulting me? After all, it was our home. OURS.

– „Tomek, how could you?! It wasn't just your decision!” – I shouted into the phone.
His response was cold.

– „Anka, you didn't have time to deal with this. I took care of everything, paid the bills, did the renovations. I had to do it. I had no choice.”

– „You had no choice? What about the promise that we would share him? What about the will of the parents?!”

– „The parents would understand. It was just a house, Anka. You had to think practically.”

His words hurt more than anything I'd heard in my life. How could he call this place „just a home”? Did all the memories we created there mean nothing to him?

A few weeks later I learned that the buyer had already begun the renovation. Our old furniture had been thrown out, the walls painted, the garden transformed into a parking lot. The house that had been the heart of our family was gone.

I met with Tomek to talk. I wanted to understand why he had done it. But his gaze was cold.

– „Anka, it's just a place. Family is not home. If you want, we can spend the holidays at my place.”

– „You don't understand, Tomek. This isn't about Christmas. This place was a part of us. And you just sold it like it meant nothing.”

I got up and left, knowing there was no point in talking any more. Tomek had made his decision and nothing could change that.

Now I'm standing here, in the place I used to call home. I have images of our childhood in my head – mom baking cookies, dad fixing the car in the garage, us playing in the yard. I feel tears welling up in my eyes. Tomek not only sold the house, but also a part of my heart.

I don't know if I'll ever forgive him. All I know is that this place will never be ours again, and I have to learn to live without him – and without the part of my brother that I've lost forever.

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