My mother had a clear favorite her entire life, while I was raised by my grandparents mostly. When she got old and sick, I helped financially but refused to do more than that for a crucial reason.
While most good parents would tell you that they don’t have a favorite, my mother was not ashamed to tell me that my brother, Stanley, was her golden boy. My father walked out of our family because caring for two children became too much.
In the end, my mother blamed me for it. “He wouldn’t have left if I hadn’t gotten pregnant with you,” she told me one day. I was just a child at the time and only wanted my mother’s love.
“But that’s not my fault,” I replied. “I didn’t ask to be born.”
“Don’t talk back to me! I’m the parent, and you’re the kid, so shut up,” she finished. We would have similar conversations through the years whenever she was mad at me. Finally, my mother sent me to live with my paternal grandparents.
They felt so bad that our father had walked away from our lives that they took me in and gave me all the love I never received at home. That’s how I learned that the word family has lots of meanings.
All I heard about my mother and brother over the years was that she helped him with everything. He got into some trouble with the police, and my mother paid all his legal fees. Eventually, she had to sell her house and pay for his apartment.
Stanley was spoiled and couldn’t hold down a job, but my mother coddled him. Meanwhile, my grandparents didn’t have much money, but they gave me everything they could. I had to work to afford my college and my home.
I learned a whole ton of responsibility, and when I graduated, I got a pretty decent job. That’s where I met my husband, Lawrence. We had two daughters whom I cherished equally. When my grandparents got sick, I was there for them until the very end.
They gave me their house, and one of my daughters moved there when she got married. Unfortunately, my husband died shortly after her wedding. She asked me to live with her, but I wanted to stay in our home.
I didn’t hear from my brother or my mother for many years. They didn’t care about me at all, so why should I care about them? But one day, Stanley called. “Hello?” I answered the phone.
“Hey, Brooke. It’s Stanley. How are you?” my brother said through the other line.
“Oh, hey, Stanley. Long time, no speak. I’m fine. How about you?” I replied.
“Yeah, it’s been a while. Listen, I’m calling because Mom broke her hip. I need your help,” Stanley continued.
“Oh, that’s too bad. Is she ok?” I asked.
“She’s fine. It’s just that the hospital bill will be pretty expensive, and I need help paying for it. She’s our mother after all,” he explained.
“Oh, well. Ok. Give me the details, and I’ll send some money,” I told him. My husband and I had accumulated decent savings, so I could afford to send Stanley some money for whatever our mother needed.
“That’s great, Brooke. Thank you. I’ll talk to you later,” Stanley said and hung up. I didn’t feel any obligation to my mother, but I wasn’t heartless. I sent him the money and forgot about it until a week later when my brother called again.
“Hey, Brooke!” Stanley started.
“Hey. How did everything go?” I asked.
“The operation for her hip went well, but the doctor just told me she’s going to need tons of rehab and round-the-clock care. I was wondering when you could come to pick her up?” my brother asked.
“What do you mean pick her up?” I probed, confused.
“I told you. She needs someone to take care of her. I’ve been by her side our whole lives. It’s time you take responsibility, Brooke. I can’t watch her,” Stanley added.
“Excuse me? Responsibility? Mom sent me to live with our grandparents because she hated me, and you were her golden boy. She essentially abandoned me,” I snapped.
“Please. Stop the melodrama. You need to step up because she needs you. She gave you life. You owe her,” Stanley demanded.
“No. I don’t owe her anything. I needed my mother when I was growing up, and she refused. She gave all her love to you, so you will need to figure out something. I gave you money for her hospital bills out of the goodness of my heart, but I won’t be her caretaker,” I told him.
“YOU’RE HORRIBLE, BROOKE! HOW CAN YOU DO THIS? I CAN’T WATCH HER!” Stanley started screaming through the phone.
“Honestly, I don’t care, Stanley. You don’t get to call me horrible. I was a kid when she abandoned me, and my grandparents became my REAL PARENTS. Don’t call me again!” I finished and hung up the call.
Stanley tried calling, texting, e-mailing, and more for several days, but I blocked him. He also tried contacting my daughters, but they refused to listen to him. They knew my history with that side of the family.
Of course, Stanley and my mother bad-mouthed me to anyone who would listen. I have been severely judged for my decision, but I didn’t listen to their criticism. After all, no one ever judged my mother for what she did to me.
What can we learn from this story?
- Caring for your loved ones is important. While Brooke’s choice is controversial, it’s easy to understand her point of view, given her background.
- Forgiveness is divine. Sometimes, you have to be the bigger person. Caring for your parents when they’re old is a big duty, both financially and emotionally. Someone has to do it.
Share this story with your friends. It might brighten their day and inspire them.
If you enjoyed this story, you might like this one about a mother who left her disabled daughter at an orphanage.
Homeless Man Asked Me to Buy Him Coffee on His Birthday — Hours Later, He Sat Next to Me in First Class
Jimmy was stunned when the homeless man he’d bought coffee for earlier boarded the plane and sat beside him in first class. Who was he and why was he asking for money in the first place?
I’d never thought much about destiny until I met Kathy.
Three months ago, she walked into my life, and within weeks, she became my world. People called me crazy for proposing after just a month, but I couldn’t ignore the way everything fell into place with her.
A woman sitting in her living room | Source: Midjourney
We shared the same outlook on life, the same love for skiing, and even a mutual obsession with science fiction novels. It felt like the universe was nudging me, whispering, she’s the one.
Now, here I was, flying out to meet her parents for the first time.
Kathy warned me about her dad, David. She called him a stern man who didn’t give his approval easily. But she also insisted he had a good heart and loved her more than anything.
A woman sitting with her phone in her hand | Source: Midjourney
To be honest, I was scared. I knew I just had one shot to prove I was worthy of his daughter, and I didn’t want to mess it up.
I’d arrived at the airport too early, nerves pushing me to leave home long before I needed to. To kill time, I ducked into a cozy little coffee shop across the street.
The hum of conversations and the aroma of freshly brewed coffee were a welcome distraction from the thoughts swirling in my head.
That’s when I noticed him.
A man sitting in a coffee shop | Source: Midjourney
The man shuffled in, wearing tattered clothes. His face had wrinkles that showed he had worked hard all his life. His shoulders were slightly hunched, and his eyes, though tired, darted around the room like he was searching for something.
I watched as he approached a few tables, speaking softly to the people seated there.
People in a coffee shop | Source: Midjourney
Most people shook their heads, avoided eye contact, or offered an awkward apology. Then, he stopped in front of my table.
“Excuse me,” he said politely. “Could you spare some change? Just enough for a coffee.”
I hesitated. My first instinct was to decline. Not because I didn’t care, but because I wasn’t sure how much to trust him. You know, some people are genuine while others are just looking for handouts.
But something about him felt different. He wasn’t pushy, and he looked embarrassed to be asking.
A close-up shot of an older man | Source: Midjourney
“What kind of coffee do you want?” I asked.
“Jamaican Blue Mountain,” he said, almost sheepishly. “I’ve heard it’s really good.”
I almost laughed. It was the priciest option on the menu. For a moment, I thought he might be joking. But the way he looked at me made me stop.
“Why that one?” I asked.
“It’s my birthday,” he smiled. “Always wanted to try it. Figured… why not today?”
A part of me wanted to roll my eyes.
Sure, it’s your birthday, I thought.
But another part of me decided to believe him.
A man lost in deep thought | Source: Midjourney
“Alright,” I said, standing up. “Let’s get you that coffee.”
His face lit up with a genuine smile. “Thank you,” he said.
I didn’t just buy him the coffee, though. I added a slice of cake to the order because, honestly, what’s a birthday without cake? When I handed him the tray, I gestured to the empty chair at my table.
“Sit,” I said. “Tell me your story.”
For a second, he hesitated, like he wasn’t sure if I meant it.
A coffee mug on a table | Source: Pexels
But then he sat down, cradling the coffee cup like it was something sacred. And he started to talk.
His name was David, and he’d lost everything years ago, including his family, his job, and even his home. Betrayal and bad luck had played their parts, but he didn’t make excuses.
He spoke plainly, with a kind of raw honesty that made it impossible not to listen.
As I sat there, I realized this wasn’t just a man looking for a handout. This was someone who’d been broken by life but hadn’t given up.
A close-up shot of an older man’s eye | Source: Pexels
By the time he finished his story, I felt a lump in my throat I couldn’t quite swallow. I slipped him $100 before leaving, but he tried to refuse it.
“Consider this a gift from my side, man,” I told him. “And happy birthday!”
I walked out of that café thinking I’d done a small, good thing for a stranger. I’d never imagined I’d see him again. Or that he’d turn my entire world upside down just a few hours later.
A man looking straight ahead | Source: Midjourney
The airport was buzzing with its usual chaos as I sat in the first-class waiting area, sipping another cup of coffee.
My nerves about meeting Kathy’s parents had calmed somewhat, but the thought of her father loomed large in my mind. What if he didn’t like me? What if he thought I wasn’t good enough for her?
I picked up my phone to text Kathy, who had already reached her parents’ place.
I’m super nervous, I wrote. How’s it going there?
Everything’s great, she texted back. I’m sure Dad’s going to love you.
When the boarding call came, I joined the line and found my seat near the window.
The view from an airplane’s window | Source: Pexels
First class felt like a luxury I didn’t deserve, but Kathy insisted I spoil myself for once. As I buckled in and glanced around, I couldn’t help but think about the man from the café. His story had stuck with me.
I hoped the $100 I’d given him would make his birthday a little brighter.
Just as I was settling in, a figure stepped into the aisle. My heart nearly stopped as I looked at his face.
A man sitting in an airplane | Source: Midjourney
It was him. The same man from the café.
But he wasn’t wearing the tattered clothes from earlier.
No, this man was in a sharp, tailored suit, his hair neatly combed, and a gleaming watch on his wrist.
He caught my eye and smirked.
“Mind if I join you?” he asked casually, sliding into the seat next to me.
I stared, my brain refusing to process the scene in front of me. “What… what’s going on here?”
He leaned back, a sly grin on his face. “Let’s call it… a test.”
An older man in an airplane | Source: Midjourney
“A test?” I repeated. “What are you talking about?”
The man chuckled softly as he pulled out a sleek notebook from his bag.
“Let me introduce myself properly. I’m David.” He paused, watching my reaction. “Kathy’s father.”
“Wait… you’re her dad?” I blurted out. “The one I’m flying out to meet?”
“The very same,” he said, still grinning. “You see, I’ve always believed in a hands-on approach. I wanted to see who my daughter’s fiancé really is outside the polished dinner introductions and carefully rehearsed answers.”
A close-up shot of an older man’s face | Source: Midjourney
I couldn’t believe it. Why didn’t Kathy tell me about this? Was she a part of this plan?
“So, this was all an act?” I asked.
“A necessary one,” he replied calmly. “It’s easy to show kindness when everyone’s watching. But I wanted to know how you’d treat a stranger, especially one who seemed to have nothing to offer you. Turns out, you passed the first part.”
“The first part?” I echoed. “How many parts are there?”
He opened the notebook and handed me a pen. “Just one more. Write a letter to Kathy.”
“A letter?”
A young man looking straight ahead | Source: Midjourney
“Yes,” he said, leaning back in his seat. “Tell her why you love her, why you want to marry her, and how you’ll take care of her. Don’t overthink it. Be honest.”
I stared at the blank page as beads of sweat formed on my temples. This wasn’t what I’d signed up for. But as much as I wanted to protest, I knew I couldn’t.
So, I started writing.
At first, the words came slowly, stumbling over thoughts and emotions. But soon, the pen seemed to move on its own.
A man writing a letter | Source: Pexels
I wrote about how Kathy made me feel complete, how her laughter could brighten my darkest days, and how I wanted to build a life with her filled with trust and joy.
By the time I finished, my hand ached, but my heart felt lighter.
However, I still wasn’t sure if I’d pass the test. What if this was a trick question? What if David’s test wasn’t as simple as it looked?
A close-up shot of a man sitting near in the window seat | Source: Midjourney
After I handed him the notebook, he looked at it for a moment. Then, he looked up with a smile.
“You passed,” he said. “Welcome to the family.”
I felt so relieved after hearing those words.
This man, who had just tested me in the most unexpected way, extended his hand. I shook it firmly, knowing I had crossed the final hurdle.
“Now, let’s see how well you do at home,” he said.
An older man in a black suit | Source: Midjourney
When we finally landed and deboarded, I was both physically and mentally exhausted. As we walked through the terminal, I tried to steady my breathing, hoping I’d done enough to impress him, but my nerves were still fraying at the edges.
The drive to Kathy’s parents’ house was quiet. She and her mother were waiting for us there.
Meanwhile, my mind was racing with thoughts of what the evening would bring. I wasn’t just meeting her parents anymore. I had passed the “test.” But what did that even mean? Would David’s approval be enough? What would happen at their home?
Cars on a road | Source: Pexels
When we arrived, Kathy’s mother, Susan, greeted us warmly. Kathy’s brothers and sister were there too.
David, however, kept his usual serious demeanor, eyeing me across the table. I couldn’t tell if he was still evaluating me or simply reserving judgment.
Dinner was an uncomfortable affair, with everyone making polite conversation while David sat back, watching everything closely.
Every time I spoke, he would nod or grunt, never offering much in return. Kathy’s siblings were easygoing, but David’s silence was almost deafening.
I couldn’t help but wonder, Did I really pass?
A man sitting for dinner in his house | Source: Midjourney
As the meal drew to a close, David set down his wine glass and cleared his throat.
“You’ve done well, Jimmy,” he said. “You’ve shown me who you really are. And that means something.”
Kathy squeezed my hand under the table.
“I’ve always known you were the right one for me,” she whispered.
“I’ve seen enough to know he’ll take care of you,” he said while smiling at his daughter. “You’ve got my blessing.”
A man smiling at his daughter | Source: Midjourney
I was super happy at that point, but there was something unspoken in the way David looked at me.
After dinner, as Kathy and I helped her parents clean up, I thought everything had fallen into place.
That’s when I stumbled upon a folded piece of paper on the counter.
As I unfolded it, I realized it was a receipt for a cup of coffee from the café I had visited earlier that morning. The one where I met David.
A young man looking at a receipt | Source: Midjourney
The receipt wasn’t for the coffee I bought for David, though. There was an additional charge at the bottom.
“Extra donation — $100.”
I picked it up and turned to Kathy.
“What’s this?” I asked her.
“Oh, that’s my dad’s way of tying up loose ends.”
I frowned, confused. “Loose ends?”
She leaned against the counter, her eyes twinkling. “You gave him $100 at the café, remember? He didn’t keep it. He handed it to the café staff and told them to count it as an extra donation after you left.”
“And… how do you know that? Did you know about his plan all along? Were you a part of it?”
A man talking to his fiancée | Source: Midjourney
She gave me a sly smile.
“Well, I was,” she said. “You didn’t think it was just about the coffee, did you? And how do you think Dad knew about your flight? Of course, it was me, Jimmy.”
At that point, I realized I wasn’t marrying into a regular family. These people were very special, and they wanted me to realize the importance of generosity. And what it meant to be a part of this family
This work is inspired by real events and people, but it has been fictionalized for creative purposes. Names, characters, and details have been changed to protect privacy and enhance the narrative. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.
The author and publisher make no claims to the accuracy of events or the portrayal of characters and are not liable for any misinterpretation. This story is provided “as is,” and any opinions expressed are those of the characters and do not reflect the views of the author or publisher.
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