Just a Month After Mom’s Death, Dad Brought a Young Mistress Into Our Home for Christmas – I Was Shocked When I Saw Her

Just a month after my mother lost her battle with cancer, Dad brought his mistress home for Christmas and introduced her as my “NEW MOM.” My heart shattered, but it wasn’t the only thing that left me shaken.

My hands won’t stop trembling as I write this. I need to share about a Christmas dinner that turned into a nightmare and showed me how quickly a family can shatter. There are some moments you wish you could forget, but they end up teaching you the hardest lessons about life, grief, and what it means to move on.

An upset woman | Source: Pexels

An upset woman | Source: Pexels

It’s been exactly one month since we buried Mom. For three years she fought cancer, and even at the end, she never stopped being… Mom. I remember her last day so clearly — the beeping machines, the afternoon sunlight streaming through the hospital window, and how she squeezed my hand with surprising strength.

“Lily, sweetheart,” she whispered, her voice raspy but determined. “Promise me something?”

“Anything, Mom.” I was trying so hard not to cry.

“Take care of your sisters. And your father… he doesn’t do well alone. Never has.” She smiled that soft smile of hers. “But make sure he remembers me?”

“How could anyone forget you?” I choked out.

That was our last real conversation. She slipped away the next morning, with my sisters Sarah and Katie holding one hand and me holding the other.

People at a funeral | Source: Pexels

People at a funeral | Source: Pexels

The first week after the funeral, I moved back home. Dad seemed lost, wandering the house like a ghost. I’d find him standing near Mom’s closet, just staring at her clothes. Or sitting in her garden, touching the roses she’d tended so carefully.

“He’s not eating,” Katie reported during our daily sister check-in calls. “I brought over lasagna, and it’s still sitting untouched in the fridge.”

“Same with the casserole I made,” Sarah added. “Should we be worried?”

I thought we should be. But then everything changed.

It started small. Two weeks after the funeral, Dad cleaned out Mom’s closet without telling any of us. Just boxed everything up and dropped it at the local charity.

An empty wardrobe | Source: Pexels

An empty wardrobe | Source: Pexels

“Her favorite sweater?” I asked, horrified when I found out. “The blue one she always wore for Christmas?”

“It’s just taking up space, Lily,” he said, suddenly practical. “Your mom wouldn’t want us dwelling.”

A few days later, he joined a gym. He started getting haircuts at some trendy place instead of the salon where Mom had known the owner for 20 years. He bought new clothes and even started humming while doing dishes. At 53, Dad was starting to act like a 20-year-old young man.

“He’s handling it differently,” Katie insisted during one of our emergency meetings at my apartment. “Everyone grieves in their own way.”

I was pacing, unable to sit still. “This isn’t grief. He’s acting like he just got released from prison instead of losing his wife of 30 years.”

A distressed woman | Source: Midjourney

A distressed woman | Source: Midjourney

Sarah curled up on my couch and tried to keep peace. “Maybe he’s trying to stay strong for us? You know how Mom always worried about him being alone.”

“There’s a difference between being strong and whatever this is,” I said, watching through my window as night fell over the city. “Something’s not right.”

I had no idea how not right things were about to get.

“Girls,” Dad called us into the living room one evening, his voice weirdly excited. “Family meeting. I have something important to tell you.”

He’d gotten all dressed up — a new shirt, pressed slacks, and polished shoes. He’d even put on cologne. Mom’s picture smiled down from the mantel as we gathered, and I swear Dad’s eyes looked delighted.

A senior man in a suit | Source: Pexels

A senior man in a suit | Source: Pexels

“I’ve met someone special,” he announced, practically bouncing on his feet. “Her name is Amanda, and I want you all to meet her.”

The silence that followed was deafening. Katie’s face went white. Sarah started fidgeting with her ring.

“What exactly do you mean you’ve met someone?” My voice came out strangled.

Dad’s smile never wavered. “I mean I’m not getting any younger, Lily. Life goes on. Amanda makes me happy, and I want her to be part of our family.”

“Part of our family?” Katie’s voice cracked. “Dad, Mom’s been gone for three weeks!”

“And what am I supposed to do?” He crossed his arms. “Sit alone in this empty house forever?”

A stunned young woman facing a man | Source: Midjourney

A stunned young woman facing a man | Source: Midjourney

“Maybe grieve?” I suggested, my anger rising. “Remember your wife? Our mother?”

“I am grieving,” he snapped. “But I’m also living. Your mother wouldn’t want me to be lonely all my life, girls!”

“Don’t.” I stood up. “Don’t you dare tell us what Mom would want. You don’t get to use her to justify this.”

Dad just walked away, scowling, leaving the three of us in a daze.

A week later, he dropped the next bomb.

“Christmas dinner,” he announced over the phone. “I want Amanda to join us.”

Close-up of a man holding his coat | Source: Pexels

Close-up of a man holding his coat | Source: Pexels

I nearly dropped my coffee mug. “You’re bringing her to Christmas dinner? Mom’s favorite holiday?”

“It’s the perfect time for everyone to meet,” he said, sounding irritatingly reasonable. “Amanda’s excited to meet you all. She’s even offered to help cook.”

“Help cook?” I gripped the phone tighter. “In Mom’s kitchen? Using Mom’s recipes?”

“Lily—”

“Mom’s been gone for four weeks, Dad. Four. Weeks.”

“And what should I do?” His voice rose. “Cancel Christmas? Sit alone while my daughters judge me?”

“Maybe respect Mom’s memory? Remember 30 years of marriage? The woman who spent last Christmas in the hospital still trying to make it special for everyone?”

A furious woman | Source: Midjourney

A furious woman | Source: Midjourney

“I’m still your father,” he said sharply. “And Amanda is coming to Christmas dinner. That’s final.”

“Fine.” I hung up and immediately called my sisters.

“He’s lost his mind,” Katie declared during our emergency video chat. “Completely lost it.”

Sarah looked like she might cry. “What do we do?”

I had an idea forming. A terrible, perfect idea.

Christmas Eve arrived cold and snowy. I spent the morning in Mom’s kitchen making her stuffing recipe. Every few minutes I caught myself turning to ask her a question, the grief hitting fresh each time I remembered she wasn’t there.

A woman decorating a Christmas tree | Source: Pexels

A woman decorating a Christmas tree | Source: Pexels

Katie arrived early to help, bringing Mom’s special tablecloth, the one with tiny embroidered holly leaves that Mom would spend hours ironing each year.

“I couldn’t sleep,” Katie admitted as we set the table. “Kept thinking about Mom, how she’d make us polish the silver until it sparkled.”

“Remember how she’d position everything just right?” Sarah added, arriving with pies. “The centerpiece had to be exactly in the middle.”

“And the photos,” I smiled sadly. “So many photos before anyone could eat.”

“Dad would complain his food was getting cold,” Katie laughed, then stopped abruptly. “God, I miss her.”

A sad woman with her eyes downcast | Source: Midjourney

A sad woman with her eyes downcast | Source: Midjourney

The doorbell rang at exactly six. Dad rushed to answer it, checking his reflection in the hall mirror first.

“Everyone,” his voice boomed with pride, “this is Amanda.”

I was stunned. She couldn’t have been older than 25. Long blonde hair, expensive boots, perfect makeup. She looked like she could have been our younger sister. My father looked like he’d won the lottery.

“This is your new MOM!” He announced, his arm around her waist. “I hope you all got her something nice for Christmas!”

Katie dropped her wine glass. The red spread across Mom’s white tablecloth like a wound, the holly leaves disappearing under the stain.

A woman smiling | Source: Midjourney

A woman smiling | Source: Midjourney

Dinner was excruciating. Amanda kept trying to make a conversation, her voice high and nervous.

“This stuffing is amazing,” she said. “Family recipe?”

“My mother’s recipe,” I replied, emphasizing each word. “She made it every Christmas for 30 years. This was her favorite holiday.”

“Oh.” Amanda pushed food around her plate. “I’m so sorry about your loss. George told me—”

“George?” I cut her off with a wicked grin. “You mean Dad?”

Dad cleared his throat. “Lily!”

A woman grinning | Source: Midjourney

A woman grinning | Source: Midjourney

“No, I want to know… when exactly did he tell you about Mom? Before or after he asked you out?”

“Lily, stop,” Dad whispered.

“Did he tell you she spent three years fighting cancer? That she was still having chemo this time last year?” I couldn’t stop. “That she made him promise to keep our family together?”

“That’s enough!” Dad’s voice thundered across the table.

Amanda looked close to tears. “I should probably—”

“No, stay,” Dad insisted. “Family gets uncomfortable sometimes. That’s normal.”

A startled woman | Source: Midjourney

A startled woman | Source: Midjourney

“Family?” I laughed bitterly. “She’s practically my age, Dad. This isn’t family. It’s creepy.”

“Present time!” Dad announced after dinner, desperate to change the mood. He’d always played Santa, but watching him do it now felt wrong.

I watched Amanda open gifts — a scarf from Katie, a gift card from Sarah. Then she reached for my carefully wrapped box.

“Oh, it’s beautiful,” she gasped, lifting out the antique jewelry box. Mom’s favorite, the one she’d kept her wedding ring in. “Thank you, Lily. This is so thoughtful.”

“Open it,” I said softly. “There’s something special inside.”

A woman holding a gift box | Source: Pexels

A woman holding a gift box | Source: Pexels

The room fell silent as she lifted the lid. Inside lay a photograph of Mom in her garden last summer, surrounded by her roses and all three of us girls beside her. Her last good day before the hospital. Her smile was still bright and full of life, even though we knew what was coming.

Beneath it lay my note: “You are not my mother. No one will ever replace her. Remember that.”

Amanda’s hands started shaking. “I… I need to go.”

“Honey, wait—” Dad reached for her, but she was already running, leaving her coat and muffler behind as she fled into the snowy night.

A woman walking away | Source: Pexels

A woman walking away | Source: Pexels

Dad came back inside alone, snow melting on his shoulders, his face ashen.

“What did you do?” he demanded.

“I gave her a reality check,” I stood my ground. “Did you really think you could replace Mom with someone my age and we’d just accept it?”

“You had no right,” he growled. “You’re not letting me live my life!”

“Live your life? Mom’s been dead for four weeks! Her side of the bed isn’t even cold!” I was shouting now, years of watching Mom suffer, weeks of watching Dad move on, all pouring out at once. “Did you even love her?”

An angry woman | Source: Pexels

An angry woman | Source: Pexels

“How dare you?” His voice broke. “I loved your mother for 30 years. I watched her fight. I watched her die. But she’s gone, Lily. She’s gone, and I’m still here. What am I supposed to do?”

“Not this,” I whispered, tears finally falling. “Anything but this.”

Katie and Sarah stood frozen, Christmas tree lights casting shadows on their tears. Outside, the snow continued to fall, covering Amanda’s footprints as she’d run away from our family’s broken pieces.

My dad blamed me for not letting him move on, but I think his actions were deeply disrespectful to my late mother. I firmly believe I did the right thing by defending her memory and making it unequivocally clear to Amanda that she could never fill my mother’s shoes.

A woman sitting on the couch | Source: Midjourney

A woman sitting on the couch | Source: Midjourney

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.

Mother Came Out of Coma After 17 Years and Took Revenge on Her Own Daughter – Story of the Day

After a difficult delivery, Olivia’s mother became comatose, but she woke up years later, not realizing how long it had been. She hated her daughter for everything that happened until she saw something on Olivia’s computer.

“Dad, can you tell me what happened back then?” Olivia asked her father once again. Heath had always been reluctant to tell his daughter this story, but she was old enough to know now.

“I met your mother the night I saw her performing for the first time. Renata was the best ballerina this town had ever seen, and I had to meet her. I thought she would reject me, but she didn’t. We started dating immediately,” Heath reminisced.

Olivia visited her mother constantly for 17 years. | Source: Shutterstock

Olivia visited her mother constantly for 17 years. | Source: Shutterstock

“What happened?”

“I really wanted a child after we got married, but she would have had to give up her career. Eventually, Renata agreed, and we were so happy. When she was about 7 months pregnant, the doctors told us that she had a big spinal problem,” Olivia’s father continued.

“Oh no!”

“Yeah, honey. It was bad. They told her it would be better to induce her labor then and try to repair it. You were born premature but healthy and thriving. Unfortunately, Renata’s surgery was complicated. The doctors said she pulled through, but she never woke up,” Heath said sadly.

Doctors couldn't explain exactly what happened. | Source: Pexels

Doctors couldn’t explain exactly what happened. | Source: Pexels

“They didn’t explain why?” Olivia asked.

“No. They said that she could wake up any minute. That’s why we visited her so often. I’ve been waiting, but it doesn’t seem like it will happen. I’m losing hope,” her father added.

“No, dad! She’ll wake up! She’s my mom!” Olivia exclaimed. Coincidentally, the doctor called the next day, as Renata had miraculously awakened.

“How is this possible, Dr. Green?” Heath asked when they arrived at the hospital.

“There’s no explanation right now, Mr. Haney. We’ll have to run some tests, but there might never be an answer,” the physician answered.

Heath wanted to see Renata before she met Olivia. | Source: Pexels

Heath wanted to see Renata before she met Olivia. | Source: Pexels

“Honey, let me go in first. Remember, she doesn’t know that 17 years have gone by,” Heath told Olivia. She agreed and stayed back, although the teen girl was dying to talk to her mother after all these years.

Heath walked into Renata’s room. “My love! You’re here! Why am I so tired? Did the surgery go well?” she wondered and hugged Heath. He didn’t know how to answer her questions but settled on hugging her back.

“Where’s the baby? Can I see her?” Renata wondered.

“Yes, darling. But you might be a little surprised,” Heath began. “Olivia, can you come in here, please.”

Olivia greeted her mom happily. | Source: Pexels

Olivia greeted her mom happily. | Source: Pexels

Olivia stepped into the room, and there she was. Her mother was sitting up on the bed and smiling. She had been dying to see this after so many years of talking to her sleeping form. “Hello, Mom!” Olivia said.

“What is this, Heath? Is she the nanny? Where’s our baby?” Renata asked in confusion, frowning when Olivia called her “mom.”

“No, darling. It’s a long story,” Heath started. He explained everything to Renata slowly, and at first, she refused to believe it.

“No! You’re lying! This is a prank! That’s impossible!” Renata yelled and cried. “Get that girl out of my room and bring me my baby!”

Renata didn't want anything to do with her daughter. | Source: Pexels

Renata didn’t want anything to do with her daughter. | Source: Pexels

“Renata, calm down, please,” Heath said. But just then, Renata saw herself in the mirror. She saw all those 17 years on her face, and any chance to be the best ballerina in the world was gone now. She went quiet.

After a few days, the doctor cleared her to go home, but Renata refused to speak to Olivia. Olivia did everything around the house, hoping to please her mother. “Mom, what do you want for dinner?” she asked one evening.

“Don’t call me ‘mom.’ I don’t want anything from you,” she replied disdainfully and went upstairs. That night, she made Heath have dinner alone with her, while Olivia stayed in her room. Over the next few days, Renata treated her daughter worse.

Renata made messes that Olivia had to clean. | Source: Pexels

Renata made messes that Olivia had to clean. | Source: Pexels

When Olivia cleaned, Renata purposely made another mess like cracking a raw egg on the kitchen table, which Olivia had to clean again. “Why are you doing this to me?” Olivia asked.

“I’m not doing anything. I just don’t want you in my house,” Renata said nonchalantly.

“I’m your daughter!” Olivia wailed.

“That’s what Heath says, but I don’t care! I don’t want you here! You need to leave now!” Renata added angrily. She walked into Olivia’s room and decided that the girl had to leave immediately. She started packing her things until she saw her computer.

She looked through Olivia's computer and discovered heartwarming videos. | Source: Pexels

She looked through Olivia’s computer and discovered heartwarming videos. | Source: Pexels

She started clicking stuff and discovered a folder named “For Mom.” It was a collection of videos Olivia made dedicated to her. She was there in the hospital on Renata’s birthday. She talked about missing her mom and how she couldn’t wait to see her wake up.

It brought tears to her eyes and she suddenly grieved all the years she had lost and how she blamed her child for it. “Mother! Why are you packing my things? Is this revenge for what happened when you got pregnant with me?” Olivia exclaimed when she entered her room.

“No, baby. I’m so sorry! I shouldn’t have blamed you. None of this was your fault! Waking up from a coma and discovering everything was overwhelming. I love you!” Renata cried. They both hugged and started to build a relationship right there.

Olivia practiced ballet, and Renata was her teacher. | Source: Pexels

Olivia practiced ballet, and Renata was her teacher. | Source: Pexels

Eventually, Renata opened her own ballet studio, and Olivia started taking lessons directly from her mother.

What can we learn from this story?

  • You can’t blame others for what happens to you. Sometimes, freak incidents happen, and there might not be someone to blame.
  • Pregnancy is a serious matter. You have to research thoroughly before taking that important step because it can derail your life and plans.

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 woman who refused to care for her mother in her old age.

This account is inspired by our reader’s story but written by a professional writer. All names have been changed to protect identities and ensure privacy. Share your story with us; maybe it will change someone’s life.

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