They say revenge is a dish best served cold, but what I cooked up for my grandsons after they abandoned my wife at a gas station was downright frigid. Sometimes love looks like tough lessons, and sometimes lessons need to hurt to stick.
I don’t like to talk about my private life on social media, but what happened last month was something that had to be shared here.
All my life, I’ve been known as the calm one. The reasonable one. The man who thinks before he speaks and rarely raises his voice.
An older man sitting in his living room | Source: Midjourney
For 43 years, I worked my fingers to the bone at the same manufacturing plant, climbing from floor worker to shift supervisor before finally retiring three years ago. Every overtime shift, every missed weekend, and every aching muscle was all to make sure my family had what they needed.
Not necessarily what they wanted, mind you, but what they needed. A stable home. Good education. Dinner on the table every night.
A plate of lasagna | Source: Pexels
Now, in my retirement, I’ve finally been able to focus on the one person who stood by me through it all. My Laura. My wife of 43 years, with her soft smile and that quiet laugh that still makes my heart skip like it did when we were teenagers.
She’s the kind of woman who remembers everyone’s birthday, who still clips coupons even though we don’t need to anymore, who volunteers at the animal shelter every Tuesday because “the cats get lonely.”
We’ve got two twin grandsons. Kyle and Dylan, both 23.
Two brothers sitting in a living room | Source: Midjourney
They’re smart and charming. I always thought they were raised well until the moment I received a phone call from Laura.
It started just before Easter. The boys showed up at our door unannounced, saying they had a “surprise” for Grandma’s birthday.
According to them, they were planning a trip to Washington, D.C. because she’d always dreamed of seeing the cherry blossoms there.
A close-up shot of cherry blossoms | Source: Pexels
I remember how her eyes lit up when they described the Jefferson Memorial surrounded by pink petals and the boat rides on the Potomac.
They told her she didn’t need to lift a finger.
They’d book the hotel, cover the meals, and take care of everything. All she had to do was let them borrow her car for the journey. Laura cried right there in our living room. Said it was the sweetest gift she’d ever been given.
I won’t lie, even I got misty-eyed watching her happiness.
An older woman smiling | Source: Midjourney
After four decades of putting everyone else first, my Laura was finally getting the recognition she deserved.
But I should’ve known something was off when they said, “You don’t need to come, Grandpa. We want this to be just for her.”
I chalked it up to them wanting quality time with their grandmother. Now I wish I’d listened to that little voice in the back of my head.
Two days later, I got a phone call that broke me in a way I haven’t felt since my brother passed.
A man using his phone | Source: Pexels
It was Laura.
Her voice was trembling with the effort of holding back tears. She was at a gas station. Alone. At midnight. No money. No food. No car.
“Arnold,” she whispered, “I don’t want to bother you, but I don’t know what to do.”
As she spoke, the story unfolded like a nightmare. Their “gift” had gone like this: They had her pay for the hotel, claiming their credit cards were “blocked” and they’d “pay her back soon.” She covered all the meals, their museum tickets, and even bought them new clothes when they claimed they’d forgotten to pack enough. Every time she reached for her purse, they assured her it was just a temporary loan.
A man holding an empty wallet | Source: Pexels
Then, on the last day, while heading home, they stopped for gas just outside of Richmond. Laura went in to pay (again) and while she was at the counter, they simply drove off. Took her car. Left their 64-year-old grandmother stranded at a gas station so they could “go party” at some club one town over.
My heart turned to stone as she described waiting for them to return.
An old woman sitting at a gas station | Source: Midjourney
How she’d sat outside on a metal bench for hours, then moved to huddle next to a vending machine when it got too cold. How she’d spent the night wrapped in her thin spring coat, trying not to draw attention to herself, afraid to sleep in case someone bothered her.
She didn’t even have enough money left for a taxi or a hotel room.
“I didn’t want to call,” she said. “I kept thinking they’d come back. They must have forgotten. They wouldn’t just leave me…”
But they did. They left my Laura alone in the dark like she was nothing.
A man talking on the phone | Source: Midjourney
“Stay where you are,” I said. “I’m coming.”
Four hours later, I picked her up, hugged her, and drove home in silence. She told me everything on the ride, including how the boys had spent the entire trip on their phones, barely talking to her, and treating her more like an ATM than a grandmother.
By the time we pulled into the driveway, I already had a plan.
A view from a car | Source: Pexels
***
Three days after those boys got back, I texted them both the same message.
“Grandma and I were so touched by your birthday surprise. We’d love to return the favor. Pack for the weekend. We’re taking you on a trip.”
They responded almost immediately. Kyle with a string of excited emojis. Dylan with “Finally! A family getaway where we don’t have to foot the bill!”
A man using his phone | Source: Pexels
What they didn’t know was that I’d already called in a favor from an old friend of mine, Sam, who runs a wilderness retreat center up in the mountains. It used to be a Boy Scouts camp back when we were kids.
Now? It’s primarily a digital detox center for teenagers who can’t go five minutes without checking social media.
Sam owed me big time after I helped him rebuild his dock last summer. When I explained what had happened to Laura, his face turned dark.
“Tell me what you need, Arnold,” he said.
A man sitting in his office | Source: Midjourney
I told him, “Make it old-school. The full 1985 experience. Cold showers. No phones. Military cots. The works.”
He said, “Say less, my friend. I’ve got just the program.”
We drove out Friday morning. Three hours deep into the woods, far beyond cell service. The boys were hyped in the backseat the whole way, playing music on their phones, taking selfies, joking about what luxury accommodations awaited them. I just nodded and kept quiet as I drove on the rough road.
A man holding a steering wheel | Source: Pexels
We arrived at the camp around noon. Dirt parking lot. Wooden cabins with peeling paint. Outhouses instead of bathrooms. Not a Wi-Fi signal in sight.
“Uh… where’s the hotel?” Kyle asked.
Dylan added, “Is this like, a themed Airbnb or something? Before we go to the real place?”
“Retro weekend, boys!” I announced with a smile. “Disconnect to reconnect. That’s the theme.”
They groaned in unison as they realized what was happening.
I asked for their phones, told them it was “part of the experience.”
A man talking to his grandsons | Source: Midjourney
Begrudgingly, they handed them over, still clearly expecting this to be some sort of joke or brief introduction before the real vacation began.
Then I showed them the printed schedule I’d worked out with Sam:
Saturday:
6 a.m. wake-up
Clean the outdoor latrines
Chop firewood
Hand-wash dishes from the mess hall
Evening: group journaling on “gratitude”
Sunday:
Mow the lawn with push mowers
Build a compost bin
Final activity: a lecture titled “Respecting Your Elders: Why It’s Not Optional”
Their jaws literally dropped. I would have laughed if I wasn’t still so angry.
A close-up shot of a young man’s face | Source: Midjourney
“You’re kidding,” Kyle said, looking around for cameras, as if this might be some elaborate prank.
Dylan laughed nervously. “Wait… seriously? This is the trip?”
I said nothing. Just handed their duffel bags to Sam, who had appeared silently behind them.
Then I got back in the truck. And drove off.
In the rearview mirror, I could see them standing there, mouths open, as Sam put a firm hand on each of their shoulders and guided them toward the most basic cabin on the property.
A truck | Source: Pexels
***
I didn’t hear from them until Sunday evening.
Sam had called earlier to assure me they were fine. Sullen, blistered, and exhausted… but fine. He said they’d done every task assigned, though not without complaint.
The biggest shock to their system had been the 5 a.m. cold shower on Saturday when the camp’s ancient water heater “mysteriously” stopped working.
Around seven that evening, our home phone rang. They’d borrowed the camp director’s landline.
A landline phone | Source: Pexels
Kyle sounded hoarse. “Grandpa,” he said, voice cracking, “we’re sorry. We’re so, so sorry.”
I could hear sniffling, and then Dylan got on the line. “Please… just let us talk to Grandma.”
I passed the phone to Laura, who had been sitting quietly beside me all weekend. She’d been against the plan at first, saying “they’re just boys” and “they made a mistake.”
But when I gently reminded her how she’d looked when I found her at the gas station, she just went quiet.
A woman looking down | Source: Midjourney
She listened quietly while they poured their hearts out. Apologies. Regret. Tears. Promises to make it up to her.
When they finally finished, she simply said, “I knew your grandfather would come up with something appropriate. He doesn’t say much. But he remembers every tear on my face.”
I picked them up Monday morning. They came trudging out of the camp looking like they’d aged five years in a weekend. Sunburnt. Sore. Quiet.
They hugged Laura so hard she nearly tipped over, both of them talking over each other with apologies.
And me? I made them pancakes and let them sit in the silence of their own guilt while they ate. Sometimes the loudest statement is saying nothing at all.
A plate of pancakes | Source: Pexels
A week later, they showed up at our house again. But this time, not for food or favors or to ask for money.
They had printed photo albums from the cherry blossom trip. Not the half-dozen selfies they’d taken, but actual thoughtful photos of the monuments, the flowers, the experiences they’d shared. Inside was a card covered in their messy handwriting:
“To the best Grandma,
We messed up. This was supposed to be about you. We forgot that. Never again.
Love, Kyle & Dylan.”
And tucked inside was a second envelope. It had every cent she had spent, repaid in cash.
An envelope | Source: Pexels
Since then? They’ve taken her to lunch every other Sunday. They call just to check in. Last week, they even fixed up our fence without being asked.
They learned. Because sometimes the best lessons don’t come from yelling or lecturing or endless arguments.
They come from one cold night. No phones. No car. No Grandma.
Just the long, lonely silence of knowing you broke someone’s heart.
‘I Always Describe It as This Angel That Fell Out of the Sky’: All about Mariska Hargitay’s 3 Children
Mariska Hargitay’s journey to motherhood is truly inspiring. Known for her iconic role on “Law & Order: SVU,” her real-life story revolves around love, resilience, and the joy of raising three children. The actress’s path to building a family is filled with unexpected blessings and deep gratitude.
Mariska Hargitay’s journey into motherhood began in her early 40s when she gave birth to her first child. Despite the challenges of being a first-time mother later in life, she wholeheartedly and joyfully embraced motherhood.
Her family grew when she and her husband, actor Peter Hermann, welcomed two more children within a year. Each child brought unique blessings into their lives, and Mariska cherishes the unexpected path that led her to become a mother of three.
Long before becoming a mother, Mariska always envisioned having her own family. From a young age, she knew motherhood was part of her life plans, a desire deeply rooted in her own upbringing.
A Childhood of Glitz and Heartbreak: The Early Life of Mariska Hargitay
Mariska is an actress, who added producing and directing to her list of talents. She was born to the glamorous actress Jayne Mansfield and the former Mr. Universe Mickey Hargitay on January 23, 1964.
Being born into Hollywood royalty, Mariska’s early life was surrounded by fame and glitz. This set a unique backdrop for her childhood. However, her early years were also marked by tragedy.
When Mariska was just three years old, her mother died in a car accident on June 29, 1967. This loss left a lasting scar on the actress, both physically and emotionally.
The actress expressed, “I clearly was in that frozen place for a lot of my childhood—of trying to survive, actually trying to survive. My life has been a process of unpeeling the layers and trust and trusting again.”
Despite this tragic beginning, Mariska’s parents’ legacy played a significant role in shaping her character. Her father, Mickey, raised her with discipline and love, teaching her the importance of hard work and resilience.
He ensured she had a normal upbringing. Mariska joined the swim team, ran cross-country, played volleyball, and by 1982, she was crowned Miss Beverly Hills. Despite her accomplishments, she was always aware of the darker side of life.
The actress later explained that she learned about crisis early and realized that life offers no guarantees, but we must keep moving forward and transform our experiences.
She considers this ability to be her superpower and sees it as a gift from experiencing trauma early in life. Despite these challenges, Mariska went on to live a full and fulfilling life.
Embracing Motherhood: Mariska’s Journey from Daughter to Mom
For Mariska, 2004 marked the beginning of a new phase in her life. That year, she married Peter, and on June 28, 2006, the actress welcomed her first child, August Miklos Friedrich Hermann, at 42.
Starting this journey into motherhood was easy for Mariska as she knew from a young age that she was meant for it. Despite losing her mother, she never lacked a maternal figure in her life. The actress was raised by her father’s third wife, Ellen Siano Hargitay, who never made her feel like an outsider.
Mariska reminisced, “I called her Mom. She really claimed us. She never had biological kids of her own, and to this day we are her kids. So we were blessed that she really embraced us and loved us so quickly. And I was very fortunate to have a maternal figure in my life after such a horrific accident.”
Additionally, while Ellen’s motherly act prepared Mariska for being a mom, it also stirred in her the desire to have children by other means. The actress had grown up realizing that being a mother did not have to be biological.
A Dream Fulfilled: The Adoption of Amaya Josephine
After a few years of becoming parents, Mariska and Peter, who came from big families, decided it was time to expand theirs. They were also not the only ones clamoring for more kids around the house. Their son August also wanted siblings.
However, the actress was over 40, and at her age at the time, pregnancies were never easy. Knowing she and her husband had so much love to give, Mariska was hopeful. She said, “I was really letting the chips fall as they might, because I do think so much is up to God.”
Mariska didn’t know how she was going to have more children, but she knew it was something that would happen. The actress remarked, “I always said, ‘I don’t know how this is going to end up. I don’t know if I’m going to get pregnant and have twins.’”
Despite having no clue, there was something she was sure of, and that was adoption. She recalled not knowing if someone would leave a baby on her doorstep. Nevertheless, she said, “But I really did think that down the line, Peter and I would adopt a child. That was always part of the plan.”
In early April 2011, Mariska and Peter’s plan came to fruition as they welcomed their second child, Amaya Josephine Hermann. Their daughter had been born in the United States about a week before her adoption.
As soon as the couple decided to adopt, they did not limit themselves as they considered international and domestic adoption. Mariska revealed they had talked about the idea of mixed-race adoptions, and were excited to become a multi-racial family.
The actress’s excitement began even before Amaya joined the family. Mariska had revealed, “I’m deliriously happy. From the minute she was born, she was just surprisingly alert and so full of love.”
The second time Mother was not alone in her excitement. August, who was less than five at the time, was also happy to have a baby sister. His Mom disclosed, “He is over the moon. He calls her his baby because he says the whole thing was his idea. He always talks about how he’s going to protect her. He’s going to be a great big brother.”
A Brother’s Dream: The Joyous Arrival of Andrew Nicolas
August, who prided himself as a big brother, was very hands-on in his sister’s life. He reportedly even participated in picking out her name. However, seeing as he thought it was his idea for her to join the family, he wanted yet another sibling.
Six months after Amaya came home as a newborn, August’s wish was fulfilled as he welcomed his baby brother, Andrew Nicolas Hermann, in October 2011. This time, Andrew was not a newborn, as he had been born in the summer of that year.
Mariska noted, “August thinks this was all his idea! He said, ‘I want a baby sister,’ and Amaya came. Then he said, ‘I want a baby brother,’ and Andrew came. August is feeling pretty good and pretty powerful!”
While August Miklos Friedrich Hermann felt powerful, Mariska was feeling a range of positive emotions. She said, “We adopted Amaya, and Andrew, I always describe it as this angel that fell out of the sky, because he was a little unexpected. [sic]”
Andrew Nicolas, Peter Hermann, and Mariska Hargitay at the ceremony honoring Mariska Hargitay with a Star on The Hollywood Walk of Fame on November 8, 2013, in Hollywood. | Source: Getty Images
The adoption of Andrew was not something Peter and Mariska had planned for at the time it happened. The couple had initially planned to adopt another baby a year or more after Amaya joined their household.
However, things happened differently. The actress revealed that their lawyer suddenly called them to inform them about Andrew. Their lawyer noted that it was an amazing opportunity, and the couple, in that moment, had never been more sure about having him in their lives.
The swiftness and timing of Andrew joining their family makes the actress believe her son “fell out of the sky.” Nevertheless, Mariska knows that it’s not an easy journey.
She once remarked, “I’m not gonna lie, there were wrenching moments. I say to everybody, ‘Adoption is not for the faint of heart.’” But, on some days, the actress feels like she’s living in a dream world. She said, “I just sit and pinch myself.”
Mariska Hargitay with Amaya, Andrew, and August at The Children’s Museum Of The East End 5th Annual Family Fair on July 20, 2013, in Bridgehampton, New York. | Source: Getty Images
Family and Fulfillment: Mariska Hargitay on Life as a Mother of Three
At 47, Mariska, who initially didn’t think it was possible to love more than one kid, had become a mom of three. She said, “You know you have one kid, and then you think, oh my gosh, I’ll never love another kid, and then the second one comes, and you can’t believe that you love them, and then the third one fell out of sky.”
Becoming a mother did not only teach Mariska about her capacity to love, it did more. She noted, “Becoming a parent erased many of my negative childhood feelings and filled them in with something new,” some of which include trying out new cultures when it comes to their cuisines.
The actress is not the only one to have spoken to the media about their family of five. Peter Hermann’s love for his family is always evident even though gets private about their kids. However, he expressed his thoughts on the unconventional manner in which their family grew.
The actor divulged, “It’s funny, I always get so private about our kids, but I think that the easiest way or the easiest answer is we just wanted a bigger family and we feel incredibly blessed.”
In 2018, Mariska also opened up about her life with the kids as she graced the cover of People’s magazine. She said, “The thing that’s made me a better parent is my kids. Because they taught me to really listen. My husband is my North Star, and my kids are my teachers.”
Not only did they make her a better parent, they also gave her something perfect in life. The actress revealed, “Our family is so perfect, or at least perfect for me. Together we’re just this whole, happy, joyful, chaotic, crazy unit. I’ve never known anything that was more right.”
Despite having a crazy and chaotic unit, Mariska and Peter work together to get the results they desire. Even though they have different parenting styles, the couple complement each other, with the actress revealing that her husband knows everything she doesn’t know.
Shortly before turning 60 in 2024, Mariska reflected on her life’s journey, career, motherhood, and more. The actress had countless reasons to be thankful.
Peter Hermann and Mariska Hargitay with their children, August, Andrew, and Amaya at the 2023 Stuttering Association For The Young (SAY) Benefit Gala on May 22, 2023, in New York City. | Source: Getty Images
One of the things Mariska was thankful for was the timing when she started her family. She said, “I’m so grateful that I’m an older mom. Grateful that I became successful older. I don’t know if I could have handled it when I was younger.”
The actress then compared what she was like in her younger days. She remembered that in her younger years, she struggled to be present, but as she got older, she learned to accept and appreciate life more deeply.
She noted, “And now I’m going to savor this moment. I want to share my lessons and where there is pain that I can fix that really inspires me to lighten the load.”
Mariska’s journey shows her strength and love. Starting her family in her early 40s, she faced the challenges and joys of raising three children with Peter. Their story is full of unexpected blessings and deep gratitude. As she cherishes her family, Mariska inspires us to embrace life’s surprises and the power of love at any age.
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