Would my siblings really force me out of my home?

Tzippy

Two days after we got up from shivah, my siblings invited themselves over for a visit.

What I did not expect was that they were coming to ask me to pack up and move out — now.

Let’s go back to the beginning.

We’re a large family, nine siblings in all. I’m the oldest daughter, which means whatever you think it means, and probably plays a role in why things turned out the way they did.

I moved to Eretz Yisrael after getting married, and we stayed for many years. Eventually, though, we felt it would be better for our growing family to move back to the States, and the clincher was when my father — still relatively young — suffered a stroke.

My parents had just married off their youngest child, my sister Ruchy. Now, with their “golden years” ahead of them, my father was suddenly incapacitated.

It was devastating for my mother — for both of them. They weren’t the kind of couple who dreaded the empty nest — they had all sorts of plans for these years. My father wanted to retire and go back to kollel, my mother wanted to be that stay-at-home Bubby hosting the grandchildren. Eventually, they planned to make aliyah. And now, everything had changed.

My father recovered somewhat, but never completely. My mother was overwhelmed with his care, with the insurance and the paperwork and trying to find aides. My siblings were struggling, each trying to handle their own lives plus care for my parents, and no one was really taking charge of the situation.

So when we were debating moving back, this was what sealed the deal: We would move back to America, move in with my parents, and help them out while setting ourselves up for our new life.

We made the big move, and we soon had our hands full. My siblings were so grateful, heaping blessings on us for taking charge, handling the hours-long wait on hold for the insurance company and filling out ridiculous amounts of paperwork, but it was really a win-win situation. The move was a huge expense, and getting into schools, figuring out the system, and so on, was complicated enough for us — having a home to move into, rent-free, for the foreseeable future was a huge brachah for our family, too.

And it was my parents’ home — familiar, spacious, in exactly the right neighborhood. We got to fulfill the mitzvah of kibbud av v’eim literally 24/7, plus had the perks of living in their home — what could be better?