I highly doubt that the post will be read carefully or shared, but I will still make it.

Even though I have a very slim chance of the post being carefully read or shared, I will nevertheless publish it.

Of course, our gratitude and indignation would be overwhelming if the post contained pictures of cats or dogs, which the majority of us adore and take good care of.

But there are no photos of people in their underwear in the post.

Regretfully, our nation’s use of pesticides has resulted in thousands of dead bees. Sadly, this is where our life cycle ends.
We humans will not have more than four years left to live if bees vanish off the face of the Earth one day.

Why do bees rank as the most significant organisms on Earth?

Since we were young children, we have benefited from the exceptional qualities of bee products, and we are all aware of the enormous significance of bees in our daily lives. The following are the findings of research done on their existence:

In the most recent Royal Geographic Society discussion held in London, the Earthwatch Institute came to the conclusion that bees are the most significant living thing on Earth. But experts also declared that bees are now considered insects with a high risk of extinction in addition to this news.

“At most, humanity would only survive for four years if bees disappeared.”
-The late Albert Einstein

Recent studies show that bee populations have decreased by up to 90% globally, with regional variations in the causes. Massive deforestation, a lack of secure nesting locations, a shortage of flowers, careless pesticide usage, altered soil, and a decline in beekeepers are a few of the primary factors.

These insects are essential to almost 70% of global agriculture, and it may be argued that bees are responsible for 70 out of every 100 items that humans eat.

In addition, bee pollination is necessary for plant reproduction, which provides millions of animals with their primary food source. The fauna would eventually start to disappear without it.

Exist answers for this issue?

There are answers, but given the detrimental agricultural and production practices in Romania, they are difficult to apply in today’s society.

However, some expert ideas have been put out with the hopes of being put into practice as quickly as possible:

restricting the use of harmful pesticides, not just outlawing them. The recommendation is to switch to insecticides that don’t harm pollinators.

encouraging all-natural alternatives for farming.

investigating and keeping an eye on bee health, welfare, and conservation on a continuous basis.

encouraging initiatives that allow the public to assist beekeepers and contribute to the bee-saving effort, such as buying organic honey or participating in national initiatives like “Adopt a Hive.” You can take part in this kind of endeavor by using the initiative.

A Family Forgot Their Wealthy Grandpa at a Gas Station on His Birthday — The Next Day, His Lawyer Called Them

On his 73rd birthday, Lennox treated his family to a lavish beach trip, only to be ignored, dismissed, and forgotten — literally! They left him at a gas station on the drive home. But the family learned the cost of their callous behavior when Lennox’s lawyer called them the next day.

I turned 73 last Tuesday. Most men my age would be proud. I’d transformed my grandfather’s humble construction company into a sprawling empire that stretched across three states.

A man seated alone at a dining table | Source: Midjourney

A man seated alone at a dining table | Source: Midjourney

But what good was any of it when I sat alone at my mahogany dining table, staring at a cake with no one to share it?

I had called my son Gregory, my daughter Caroline, their spouses, and all five of my grandchildren to invite them to celebrate my birthday.

All of them had answered with excuses; they were too busy to spend one evening with me.

A man speaking on his phone | Source: Midjourney

A man speaking on his phone | Source: Midjourney

I sat in my study later that night, nursing a glass of scotch, when an idea struck me.

Money. It had always been the one thing that got their attention. The one thing that made their schedules “magically open up,” as my late wife Helen used to say.

So I rented the most luxurious tour bus available and planned a weeklong trip to the coast. All expenses paid.

Seating inside a luxury tour bus | Source: Pexels

Seating inside a luxury tour bus | Source: Pexels

Then I sent out new invites to my family, asking them to join me for the “real birthday celebration.”

The responses were predictably enthusiastic, now that they were getting more than a slice of cake and a few hours with an old man out of it.

When the day arrived, all 15 of them showed up with piles of luggage and wide smiles.

People carrying bags | Source: Pexels

People carrying bags | Source: Pexels

My great-granddaughter Zoe squealed when she saw the tour bus and instantly started taking selfies in front of it.

I watched them board, chattering and laughing. My family… my legacy. I smiled to myself as I climbed aboard last. Maybe this was how we’d finally connect.

The countryside rolled by in waves of gold and green while I sat in the back, watching them all.

A road cutting through the country | Source: Pexels

A road cutting through the country | Source: Pexels

Gregory played cards with his boys. Caroline sipped wine with her daughter-in-law. The youngest kids bounced between seats, high on sugar and excitement.

No one sat with me. Not at any point during the many hours it took to reach our destination.

The coast was beautiful, I’ll give it that. Blue waves crashing against rocky shores, and seagulls wheeling overhead.

A road on the coast | Source: Pexels

A road on the coast | Source: Pexels

I paid for a boat tour on our first day, but when I joined my family in the hotel lobby, Gregory frowned at me.

“Don’t you think you’re a little old to be going on a boat trip, Dad? Think about your health. What if you had another heart attack?”

“I—”

“Greg’s right, Dad.” Caroline cut me off. “It’s best if you stay here.”

A woman smiling at someone | Source: Pexels

A woman smiling at someone | Source: Pexels

And that was the pattern for the entire week.

I’d organized spa treatments, fishing excursions, surfing lessons, you name it. But I didn’t get to enjoy any of it. Or spend any time with my family.

Oh, they were careful to wrap their excuses in concern for my health, but Zoe’s obsession with social media betrayed them all.

A young teen girl staring at her cell phone | Source: Pexels

A young teen girl staring at her cell phone | Source: Pexels

I was on my way to the beach (by myself) when I spotted Zoe in the garden just outside the hotel entrance, phone held out in front of her.

I started walking toward her but froze when I got close enough to overhear what she was saying.

“… enjoying the beach with my fam! We were even kind enough to bring my great-grandpa along, although my mom and grandma say he can’t do much because of his health issues. At least he can chill by the pool!”

A young teen girl using her cell phone | Source: Pexels

A young teen girl using her cell phone | Source: Pexels

Zoe is only 12 and might be excused for spouting nonsense, but it was the narrative beneath her words that broke me; the things her mother and Caroline had told her.

I saw the truth now. I’d thought I was investing in a chance to bring my family together when I paid for this trip, but they just saw me as useless baggage they were forced to drag along.

I went down to the beach and stayed there, watching the families who actually cared about each other building sandcastles and laughing together until the stars came out.

Starry sky over a beach | Source: Pexels

Starry sky over a beach | Source: Pexels

The week passed quickly.

Too quickly for them, apparently. The complaints started before we even loaded the bus for the return trip.

“God, this drive is going to be brutal,” Caroline muttered, sunglasses perched on her head.

A woman staring at something | Source: Pexels

A woman staring at something | Source: Pexels

“I don’t know why Grandpa didn’t just rent a private jet,” her eldest son said, loud enough for everyone to hear.

Loud enough for me to hear.

Two hours into the journey home, I felt a tightness in my chest.

A distressed man | Source: Midjourney

A distressed man | Source: Midjourney

A cold sweat broke out across my forehead.

It wasn’t a heart attack — I’d had one of those before and knew the difference. This was just age and stress and heartache making themselves known.

“Can we pull over?” I asked, my voice weaker than I intended. “I need a minute.”

A man with his hands pressed together | Source: Pexels

A man with his hands pressed together | Source: Pexels

Gregory looked up from his laptop, irritated. “We just stopped an hour ago.”

“You can’t wait 30 more minutes?” Caroline snapped. “There’s a rest area up ahead.”

I pressed a hand to my stomach. “I just need a moment to breathe.”

Close up of a man's face | Source: Pexels

Close up of a man’s face | Source: Pexels

My son-in-law, James, sighed dramatically and signaled the driver.

The bus pulled into a grimy gas station, all buzzing florescent lights and faded advertisements.

“Make it quick, Dad,” Gregory said, not looking up from his screen.

A man typing on a laptop | Source: Pexels

A man typing on a laptop | Source: Pexels

Gone was the concern for my health that they’d pulled out like red cards at a soccer match every time I tried to join in on the holiday excursions.

I shuffled inside the gas station restroom and splashed water on my face. The man who looked back at me in the mirror seemed suddenly smaller than I remembered.

When I walked back outside, blinking in the harsh sunlight, the parking lot was empty. The bus was gone.

A gas station | Source: Pexels

A gas station | Source: Pexels

I stood there, my blazer suddenly insufficient against the wind that picked up. No phone. No wallet. Nothing but the clothes on my back and the watch on my wrist.

“You okay, sir?” A young voice broke through my shock.

A girl stood in the gas station doorway, maybe 19, her name tag reading “Marlee.”

“I think I’ve been… forgotten,” I said.

A startled-looking man | Source: Midjourney

A startled-looking man | Source: Midjourney

She frowned, looking around the empty lot. “Someone just left you here?”

“My family,” I said, and the words felt like glass in my throat.

“That’s messed up,” she said simply. Then she disappeared inside, returning moments later with a foil-wrapped package. “Microwave burrito. It’s not much, but you look like you could use something.”

A burrito | Source: Pexels

A burrito | Source: Pexels

I took it, surprised by the kindness of the gesture. “Thank you.”

Marlee’s shift ended two hours later. During that time, no one called, and no one came back for me.

“Look, I can’t just leave you here,” she said. “My apartment’s not far…”

So, I went home with Marlee to an apartment smaller than my bedroom.

An apartment building | Source: Pexels

An apartment building | Source: Pexels

She made soup from a can and loaned me thick wool socks when she noticed me rubbing my feet.

“My brother’s room is yours tonight,” she said, showing me to a small bedroom with posters of bands I didn’t recognize. “We’ll figure this out in the morning.”

I lay awake that night, staring at the ceiling.

A man lying in a bed | Source: Pexels

A man lying in a bed | Source: Pexels

Not once had Marlee asked who I was beyond my name. Not once had she questioned whether helping me would benefit her in any way.

She saw an old man in need and extended her hand. Simple as that.

When morning came, I borrowed Marlee’s cellphone and made one call — to my lawyer. It was time to teach my family a lesson.

A man making a phone call | Source: Pexels

A man making a phone call | Source: Pexels

I was home by mid-morning, and my family started arriving by noon, their faces twisted with panic and indignation.

“Dad, there’s been a terrible misunderstanding,” Gregory started, standing in my foyer like he owned the place.

“We went back for you!” Caroline insisted, though we both knew it was a lie.

A woman speaking to someone | Source: Pexels

A woman speaking to someone | Source: Pexels

I let them talk themselves out. Let them rage and plead and make promises we all knew they wouldn’t keep.

When they finally fell silent, I opened the front door.

Marlee stood on the porch, a plate of homemade cookies in her hands. I placed a gentle hand on Marlee’s shoulder as she entered, confusion evident on her face as she took in the scene.

A confused woman | Source: Pexels

A confused woman | Source: Pexels

“This,” I said, calm as still water, “is Marlee. She didn’t know who I was. She didn’t know what I had. But she saved me, took care of me, and reminded me what it means to be seen.”

My family stared, uncomprehending.

“I’m taking back all the businesses, cars, houses, and every other gift I’ve ever given you all,” I continued, watching the realization dawn on their faces. “Everything you thought was yours will now belong to her.”

A man pointing his finger | Source: Pexels

A man pointing his finger | Source: Pexels

“You can’t be serious,” Caroline whispered, her perfectly manicured hand pressed to her throat.

“You left me at a gas station without a backward glance. And I finally saw you all clearly.”

Marlee looked between us all, stunned. “Lennox, I don’t understand—”

“You will,” I said gently. “But unlike them, you never have to worry about what it means to be family. You already know.”

An emotional man | Source: Pexels

An emotional man | Source: Pexels

They left in a storm of threats and tears. But I felt lighter than I had in decades. Marlee stayed, confused but kind as ever.

“You don’t have to do anything,” I told her as we sat in my study later. “The money and properties are yours, regardless. But I hope you’ll let an old man show you the ropes.”

She smiled then, and it reminded me so much of Helen that my heart squeezed in my chest.

A smiling woman | Source: Pexels

A smiling woman | Source: Pexels

“I think,” she said carefully, “that we could both use a friend.”

And for the first time in longer than I could remember, I didn’t feel forgotten at all.

Related Posts

Be the first to comment

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published.


*