I Was Just a Caregiver for an Elderly Lady Until She Revealed Her Plan to Rewrite the Will — Story of the Day

I thought I was just a caregiver for Mrs. Blackwood, a sharp-tongued, secretive woman, until her plan to rewrite the will in my favor, cutting out her children, pulled me into a storm of family secrets.

I was young, unemployed, and full of doubts. A nursing diploma in hand but no job prospects. Higher education in the city felt like a cruel joke. Weeks of failed interviews left me restless, staring at a bleak future.

Then, a small ad in the paper caught my eye:

“Nanny needed for an elderly lady who cannot walk. Live-in position.”

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

It felt like a lifeline. So, I headed to the interview.

When I arrived at the grand, slightly weathered house, the door was opened by a young man, perhaps in his early twenties.

“You must be here for the nanny position,” he said with a polite smile. “I’m Edward.”

Before I could respond, a young woman appeared behind him.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

“And I’m Emily. Grandma’s expecting you,” she added, her tone friendly but distant, as if this was a routine chore she wanted to get over with.

They were kind enough to show me inside, but it looked as though they were obligated to be welcoming.

“Grandma’s upstairs,” Edward said as he gestured toward the staircase. “We’ll let her take it from here.”

They disappeared down the hall, leaving me with the distinct impression that they were more like housemates than attentive grandchildren.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

Mrs. Blackwood greeted me with a smile that radiated confidence. She was in bed, but everything about her said she was in control. Her hair was perfectly coiffed, her nails polished, and her laughter surprisingly hearty.

“Ah, you must Mia,” she said, her voice warm and commanding. “Come in, dear. Sit down.”

I hesitated for a moment. She didn’t match the frail, helpless image I’d expected.

“Don’t just stand there,” she teased, patting the edge of the bed. “Sit! Have a doughnut. No one should face the world hungry.”

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

“Thank you,” I replied, cautiously picking one from the plate on her nightstand.

Her eyes sparkled as she watched me as if she already knew my life story.

“So, tell me,” she began, leaning back slightly, “why do you want this job?”

“I need it. And I believe I can help you,” I said, trying not to overshare.

She nodded. “Honesty. That’s rare these days. Well, Mia, welcome aboard.”

That’s how my life in Lady Blackwood’s house began.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

The first few days were uneventful. I followed her routine, listened to her endless stories, and thought maybe this would be simple. But then, the strangeness began.

One morning, a book from the shelf moved beside her bed.

“Did you read this last night, Mrs. Blackwood?” I asked, holding up the book.

“I don’t sleepwalk, dear,” she replied, her lips twitching with amusement.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

Then there was the curtain. I distinctly remembered leaving it open, but it was drawn when I returned. And the flowers… They were freshly watered when I hadn’t touched them.

“Are your grandchildren coming to kiss good night?” I asked one morning, trying to sound casual.

“Oh no,” she said with a small laugh. “Edward and Emily have been living here since their parents gone, but they rarely bother to check on me before bed.”

“But… someone’s moving things,” I pressed.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

“They’ll come when the will is read,” she added, missing my comments.

Her words hung in the air like a puzzle piece that didn’t fit. Something was off, and I couldn’t shake the feeling that Mrs. Blackwood was hiding something from everyone, including her grandchildren.

***

Each new day in the Blackwood household seemed to unravel more mysteries. I decided to make a few changes to Mrs. Blackwood’s routine, not only to make her life more comfortable but also to create a sense of normalcy in the house. Instead of letting her eat alone in her room, I began setting the table in the living room.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

“There’s something special about a proper dinner table,” I said, adjusting the silverware. “It feels more… lively, don’t you think?”

Mrs. Blackwood raised an eyebrow, but a faint smile tugged at her lips.

“You’re full of ideas, aren’t you, Mia?”

“And you’re going to love this one,” I said with a wink, pushing her wheelchair closer to the table.

I covered her with a soft blanket and tucked a pillow behind her back for support.

Edward and Emily weren’t as enthusiastic about the change. The first night, they entered the room with wide eyes, as though they had stumbled into a completely foreign world.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

“What’s this?” Emily asked, frowning at the neatly set table.

“Dinner,” I replied cheerfully. “It’s nice to eat together, don’t you think?”

Edward hesitated. “But Grandma always eats in her room.”

“Well, not anymore,” I said firmly, pulling out a chair for him. “She deserves company, don’t you agree?”

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

They exchanged a look, clearly uncomfortable, but sat down anyway.

Later, I introduced the idea of reading nights twice a week.

“It’s simple,” I explained one evening. “We’ll each take turns reading a chapter aloud. Then we can discuss the plot. It’ll be fun, and it’ll give us all something to share.”

Mrs. Blackwood seemed to enjoy it, her laughter often punctuating the room as we stumbled through old classics and lighthearted tales.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

But after a few weeks, Edward and Emily began to find excuses to skip. Their absences became more frequent until it was just Mrs. Blackwood and me at the table.

One evening, the four of us gathered for the dinner.

“I’m glad you both joined us tonight,” Mrs. Blackwood began, her voice smooth and warm.

Edward glanced at Emily. “Actually, Grandma, there’s something we wanted to talk to you about.”

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

Emily jumped in before he could finish. “We’ve been thinking… It’s probably best for all of us if Edward and I move out. You’ll still have Mia here to take care of you, of course.”

Mrs. Blackwood tilted her head. “Moved out? Where would you go?”

“We found a place downtown,” Edward explained quickly. “But, um, we’ll need a little help with the deposit and rent.”

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

For a moment, silence hung over the table. Then Mrs. Blackwood gave a slow, deliberate smile that made both Edward and Emily sit up straighter.

“Well, isn’t that convenient,” she said, her voice light but laced with something sharp. “Since we’re all sharing news, I have some of my own.”

Edward frowned. “What news?”

Mrs. Blackwood leaned forward slightly, her eyes gleaming with amusement.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

“Next week, my lawyer will be visiting to make some changes to my will.”

Emily froze, her fork halfway to her mouth. “Changes?”

“Yes,” Mrs. Blackwood replied. “You see, I’ve decided that everything will go to Mia.”

“You’re joking!” Emily exclaimed.

“Oh, I’m quite serious,” Mrs. Blackwood said, her voice calm. “Mia has shown me the kind of care and respect I haven’t seen from either of you in years. She’s earned it.”

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

“But we’re your grandchildren!” Edward burst out.

“Then perhaps you should start acting like it,” Mrs. Blackwood retorted. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I believe dinner is getting cold.”

***

Overnight, Edward’s and Emily’s behavior changed in the most absurd ways. Suddenly, they became the epitome of devoted grandchildren, vying for her attention. That was as entertaining as it was ridiculous.

One morning, I walked into the living room to find Edward arranging a vase of bright tulips on the table.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

“Flowers for you, Grandma,” he said, his tone overly cheerful. “I remember how much you love tulips.”

Mrs. Blackwood glanced at the flowers, unimpressed. “Do you? That’s interesting because I prefer orchids.”

Emily, not to be outdone, burst in a moment later carrying a tray with tea and biscuits.

“Breakfast in the living room today, Grandma! I thought you’d enjoy a change of scenery.”

Mrs. Blackwood raised an eyebrow, sipping the tea. “Well, aren’t you two just angels,” she said dryly. “Too bad you didn’t think of this sooner.”

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

They were relentless. Their efforts to win her over bordered on comical. Meanwhile, I barely had to lift a finger.

But despite their over-the-top efforts, Mrs. Blackwood remained firm. One evening, after a particularly extravagant dinner prepared by Emily, she announced:

“My decision is final. No amount of flowers or fancy meals will change it.”

The smiles disappeared, replaced by hushed conversations behind closed doors.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

The next day, Edward approached me.

“We’ve decided that your services are no longer needed. We can manage taking care of Grandma ourselves.”

It was clear his words were rehearsed, but the tension in his voice betrayed the real motive.

“Alright,” I said finally. “I’ll pack my things.”

As I turned to leave, Mrs. Blackwood called me to her room. She handed me an envelope stuffed with cash.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

“It’s time for you to act. Rent a car, park it near the house at midnight, and wait in the garden when the lights go out. Be ready for anything.”

I stared at her, startled. “But what’s going to happen?”

She smiled. “Just trust me. You’ll see soon enough.”

***

I rented the jeep, just as Mrs. Blackwood had instructed. The following night, I drove toward her house and parked the jeep a few streets away, keeping it hidden under the shadows of tall trees.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

Taking a deep breath, I got out and crept into the garden, crouching behind the hedge where I had a clear view of the house. Time felt elastic, stretching endlessly as I waited for her signal.

Then, all at once, the lights in the house went out.

My pulse quickened. I fixed my eyes on the windows, every muscle in my body tense. The darkness seemed alive, moving with shadows that weren’t there a moment ago.

Suddenly, the back door creaked open, and a figure in a black cloak emerged. It turned, the face illuminated by the moonlight.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

“Mrs. Blackwood?” I whispered, unsure if it could really be her.

“Come,” she whispered, moving with a speed and confidence that shocked me.

I hurried after her, struggling to keep up as she navigated the garden like someone half her age. When we reached the jeep, she slid into the driver’s seat without hesitation.

“Wait… you can drive?” I stammered, stunned.

“Of course,” she replied, her tone tinged with amusement. “Did you think I spent all my time in bed for fun?”

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

As she expertly maneuvered the jeep, she explained everything. The shifting objects, the carefully timed moments of helplessness—it had all been part of her plan.

“My grandchildren have spent their lives waiting for something they didn’t earn. You, Mia, showed me what true care and effort look like. It’s time they learn to stand on their own.”

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

***

True to her word, Mrs. Blackwood rewrote her will, leaving nothing to her grandchildren. Instead, she rewarded me generously and donated the rest to charity. Her grandchildren were given a choice: start earning their way or leave without support. Surprisingly, they chose to change.

As for me, I found a place to live and returned to my hospital internship, armed with glowing recommendations from Mrs. Blackwood. That adventure gifted me with an extraordinary friendship with Mrs. Blackwood, who taught me the true value of self-worth.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

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My Husband’s Adult Kids Came to Our Honeymoon Demanding We Give Them Our Villa – They Got a Lesson in Respect

My husband’s children hate me. They always have and always will, but fortunately, my husband took my side when he saw how cruel they were to me. He taught them a valuable lesson, which eventually made them apologize and rebuild our relationships.

Two adults making faces | Source: FreePik

Two adults making faces | Source: FreePik

My husband, Jack, is the dad of three kids over 21 years old. He was devastated when I met him two years after his wife passed away. He became a father at an early age and, sadly, also became a widower after a few years. About a year after we met, he introduced me to his kids, and we absolutely didn’t get along.

A sad man praying | Source: FreePik

A sad man praying | Source: FreePik

I understood why they were apprehensive about my relationship with their father, who is ten years my junior. He is 43 and I am 53. We have known each other for over nine years and have been engaged for four years. Throughout the stages of our relationship, not once did his children make me feel accepted.

Two girls talking about something | Source: Pexels

Two girls talking about something | Source: Pexels

I didn’t move in with their family until all of his kids were out of the house. When the time finally came for me to move in, I had fewer interactions with them as they went to college. Still, whenever we were together, they would talk about their mom and made sure I felt like an intruder in their family. This was despite me telling them that I was not trying to replace their mother.

A thinking woman in her 50s | Source: FreePik

A thinking woman in her 50s | Source: FreePik

When Jack proposed, his children started disrespecting me even more, but behind Jack’s back. I didn’t tell him because I didn’t want them to argue. I was well aware that their family had gone through so much already, especially Jack, who had to raise his kids singlehandedly for years.

Jack felt he had to fill in the hole their mother left. So he worked twice as hard to provide his children with a luxurious life, even after they moved out of the house.

Tired man thinking by the sea | Source: Pexels

Tired man thinking by the sea | Source: Pexels

Anyway, we had our wedding a few weeks back. It was a small civil ceremony and his children did not attend, claiming they all had other important commitments. Since it was a small event, we did not mind. We decided to go all out and spend more on our honeymoon, which we took in the Bahamas.

A view of the Bahamas shores | Source: Pexels

A view of the Bahamas shores | Source: Pexels

Two days after we landed, ALL of his kids appeared. “Daddy, we missed you so much!” they said. Another whispered in my ear, “You thought you got rid of US, huh?!” Although taken aback by their arrival, we still gave them a tour and showed them our villa. I tried to be nice and ordered them snacks. Meanwhile, Jack got beverages for everyone.

A woman swimming in a pool | Source: Pexels

A woman swimming in a pool | Source: Pexels

I never thought they would ruin my honeymoon, but I almost fell when one of his kids told me, “You, 58-year-old OLDIE! Still want a fairytale? This villa is too luxurious for you. We’ll take this one, and you can get that small bungalow.”

I calmly told them, “Guys, please don’t ruin this for your father and I. Please just give us this honeymoon and don’t cause a scene. I’m begging you.”

A woman begging | Source: FreePik

A woman begging | Source: FreePik

“We will never give you a taste of happiness. You do not deserve our dad, and you definitely do not deserve this luxurious villa. So beat it!” one of them replied.

And then we heard a glass smash to the floor; Jack was standing a few feet from the door, purple with rage.

“ARE YOU KIDDING ME?!” he screamed. It was a voice I had never heard before; one that was so angry that it stunned his kids into silence.

An angry man | Source: Pexels

An angry man | Source: Pexels

“I have given you everything, supported you financially, and this is how you repay me? Disrespecting my wife? And on our honeymoon no less,” Jack exclaimed.

They started to stammer excuses, but Jack cut them off. “Enough! I have had it with your entitled behavior. You think you can come here and demand anything? Did you really think I did not know about your behavior towards my wife? I turned a blind eye, hoping each time that you all would change. This ends now.”

An angry man | Source: Pexels

An angry man | Source: Pexels

He pulled out his phone and made a call. Within minutes, the villa’s security arrived. “Escort them out. They are no longer welcome here,” he said.

The security guards led his kids away, their faces a mix of shock and humiliation. They protested, but Jack stood firm. “You will not disrespect my wife or me ever again. Consider this your lesson in respect and a wake-up call,” he added before telling them that he would also cut all their credit cards.

A security guard walking a hallway | Source: Pexels

A security guard walking a hallway | Source: Pexels

Jack wasted no time. He immediately called the bank and cut off their financial support, forcing them to stand on their own feet for the first time. He made it clear that their behavior had consequences and that they needed to learn responsibility and respect.

A couple hugging | Source: FreePik

A couple hugging | Source: FreePik

The next few months were tough. For many years, they relied on their credit cards to enjoy life. Without it, they struggled, but eventually started to understand the value of hard work and respect.

One evening, we received a call from all his kids. “Dad, I’m sorry,” they all said, their voices filled with genuine remorse. “We were wrong. Can we start over?”

Jack looked at me, tears in his eyes. “Of course,” he replied, his voice cracking. “We can always start over.”

A man on the phone | Source: Pexels

A man on the phone | Source: Pexels

And so, slowly but surely, they rebuilt their relationship. Jack’s decisive actions during our honeymoon not only protected our special time but also taught his kids a lesson they would never forget. It was a hard journey, but in the end, it brought us all closer together.

Jack’s kids are not the only ones who learned a lesson after a wedding. A bride’s mother also realized a valuable lesson after her daughter tied the knot.

My Narcissistic Mom Made My Wedding All about Her — When She Insisted on Displaying Her Portrait, I Snapped

I’ve never been the type to go against my parents’ wishes. Growing up, I was always the good kid, the one who did everything to make them happy. My mom, especially, loved being in control of everything – from my birthday parties to my graduation dinners. Sometimes, it felt like she was the one turning a year older or getting a diploma.

A woman carrying a birthday cake | Source: Pexels

A woman carrying a birthday cake | Source: Pexels

But my wedding day was different. This was one day I wanted to be completely mine, without my mom’s interference. Of course, that didn’t last long. It started with her insisting I wear her veil – the same one she wore when she married my dad.

A bride holding white flowers | Source: Pexels

A bride holding white flowers | Source: Pexels

To be honest, I didn’t mind that. The veil was a family tradition, beautiful and intricately detailed, and it had been tailored and improved with each generation. I was happy to wear it on my special day.

A bride with her hands together | Source: Pexels

A bride with her hands together | Source: Pexels

As the wedding preparations went on, though, my mom tried to control every little decision. A few days before the wedding, I sent her a picture of a memorial table I had set up for my late cousin and dad.

Wedding table setup | Source: Freepik

Wedding table setup | Source: Freepik

My cousin was like the older brother I never had, and my dad treated him like a son. We were incredibly close, and losing them both was devastating. I loved the idea of having a table to honor them because it broke my heart that they couldn’t be there.

A woman crying in church | Source: Pexels

A woman crying in church | Source: Pexels

When my mom saw the picture, she freaked out. She was upset that she wasn’t included in that one thing. She insisted that I put a portrait of her on the table too.

“That’s literally a table for the fallen. It’s a military tradition,” I tried to explain. “It’s to commemorate those who have passed away and can’t be at my wedding.”

Screenshot of a conversation through text | Source: AmoMama

Screenshot of a conversation through text | Source: AmoMama

“You should be proud of me too!” she snapped back. “It’s disrespectful and selfish of you to exclude me. If you don’t put my portrait there, I won’t attend your wedding.”

Her words stung. I couldn’t believe she was making this all about her. That’s when I decided to show her what selfishness really looked like. After our heated back-and-forth, I decided to set up another memorial table just for her.

A woman thinking while on her phone | Source: Pexels

A woman thinking while on her phone | Source: Pexels

I printed out a framed photo of my mom, just as she demanded. Next to it, I added another picture – a screenshot of our text conversation where she insisted on having her portrait displayed and threatened not to come if I didn’t comply. Instead of the “I Wish You Were Here” sign that I had on the real memorial table, I wrote “You Wished to Be Here.”

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