I’ve got one son, Mike. And his kids, my grandbabies, are just my world. Well, about a month ago, he was planning this family getaway with his wife and the kids and wanted me to come. But, here’s the kicker – I couldn’t afford it. Between scrimping and saving for my medical bills, there just wasn’t enough for a trip.
Then, out of the blue, my son says he’ll cover my expenses – wants to treat me to the trip. Can you imagine? I was over the moon, thanking my lucky stars.
But as soon as we hit our vacation spot, he hits me with this, “Mom, did you really think this vacation was gonna be free? YOU’LL HAVE TO
“…sell the house to help us with a down payment on ours.”
I thought he was joking at first — I even laughed. But his face was dead serious.
He went on about how “it’s only fair” because he and his wife had “so many expenses with the kids” and how I “didn’t need such a big place anymore.”
My chest tightened. That house isn’t just four walls — it’s where I raised him, where I took care of his father until the day he passed, where every single memory of my life lives.
So, while they were out sightseeing the next morning, I packed my bag, called a cab, and left without saying a word.
When Mike found out, he blew up my phone with messages saying I’d “ruined the trip.”
But I’m still wondering… was leaving the only way to keep my dignity?
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