When I told my parents that I had been accepted to Bath University in the UK, they quickly said there was no way I was going.
Their logic was simple: They knew I was chasing after a high school boyfriend who wasn’t right for me and that I wouldn’t love living in Bath by myself.
Knowing I needed a little freedom from living in São Paulo, they suggested I move to Argentina, where I’m originally from, for college. After that, I could decide what to do next. There was only one caveat — I had to live with my 81-year-old grandmother. They didn’t think I was ready to live by myself in a big city, and I also had no way of paying for rent.
I was already close to my grandmother
My maternal grandmother and I were already pretty close. My grandfather died months after I was born (my family says he waited to meet me), and so my grandmother dedicated her time to helping my parents raise me.
She would stay at our apartment when my parents had to travel for work, teaching me how to walk and talk. When my dad was moved to a different country for his job, she came for a year to help us settle in.
I moved in when I was 19 and she was 81
My grandmother lived in a two-bedroom apartment when I moved in with her. Besides a computer and a desk, I only had to bring my clothes. I paid her for my parking spot in the building and helped keep the place tidy.
Because we were so close and had lived together before, there wasn’t much adjusting for us to do. The one issue we had was with me going out at night; she couldn’t understand how I could be out until the early hours of the morning and still make it to class on time.
But the setup was beneficial for both of us. Even though I was born in Argentina, I hadn’t lived there for over a decade. Having a safe place to land helped me focus on studying and making friends.
When I came home, my grandmother had dinner ready, and we would spend time catching up and talking. When she needed to go to the doctor, I would go with her to ensure she understood everything they were telling her.
People in my life thought it was weird at first
At first, not everyone understood my decision. My uncle told my mother that it wasn’t “natural” for a teenager to live with their grandparents. My friends, who still mostly lived with their parents, also thought it was a bit weird.
As the years went by, people in my life started to see how beneficial it was for both of us.
One time, my grandmother confused her pills and took the wrong amount of her blood pressure medication. She called for me, dizzy, saying something was wrong. I rushed her to the hospital, where we were told it was just a scare and that her symptoms would subside once the medicine left her system.
When my college boyfriend broke up with me out of the blue, she held me while I sobbed into her shoulder. She scratched my back until I fell asleep, just like she did when I was a little girl.
I moved out after college
After graduation, I moved out to live by myself, not far from her. I still took her to lunch with our family and made sure to be as present as I could be in her life. Years later, I moved to the US but still called her weekly to chat.
My grandmother died when she was 97, seven years ago. I knew it was coming, so I flew from New York to say goodbye in person and thank her for everything she did for me.
My grandmother’s love and care in such formative years, when I was trying to figure out who I was, had a huge impact on my life. If I were given the choice, I would move in with her again.
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