Wendy hoped her son, John, would care for her in her sunset years. But John left her alone on the street. He did not expect his mother to appear at his doorstep a year later, standing on her feet.
“Can’t talk now, mom! I’m with a customer. I might finally sell a house this year. I’ll call the neighbors to check up on you. But I’m sure it’s nothing. You must’ve sat on the pot too long. Ok. Gotta go. I’ll come in to check on you tonight.”
Wendy remembered the call with her son, John, the first time her legs went numb. She remembered the state of panic she was in when she called him for help. She remembered getting breathless, fearing she was going to die. But her son did not have time to help her despite living a few blocks away.
He didn’t remember to call the neighbors to check in on her or visit her that night. And he even failed to sell the house, or any house, for that entire year.
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It had been a year since Wendy started feeling numbness in her legs. They stopped working all of a sudden as if they were paralyzed. Initially, the weakness in her legs lasted 10-15 minutes. She would wait it out by simply gathering herself and resting in the corner of the house until her legs came back to normal.
Eventually, the frequency of her legs going numb increased, until one day, when she had a fall and couldn’t get up. She cried for help, and luckily, the neighbors showed up. They informed John, who rushed in and took Wendy to the hospital.
Wendy was diagnosed with a rare nerve compression syndrome that caused numbness in her lower limbs. Her situation got complicated for over a year as she and John ignored her symptoms. And the injuries she sustained while falling made things worse.
Wendy was now in a wheelchair.
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John drove Wendy to the hospital and back for the first month of her physiotherapy sessions, but nothing helped Wendy get better. Although Wendy was spending her money for the treatment, John was getting frustrated, driving her to and fro.
“I think you should give up, mom. How many times am I supposed to miss my meetings? You know I need to focus on selling houses, right?” Wendy would wipe her tears while listening to her son’s insensitive comments during their car rides.
‘But he’s my son. At least he’s there for me,’ Wendy would console herself.
Karma will always hit you back.
After the physiotherapy and medication did not improve Wendy’s condition, the doctors suggested she get an expensive surgery. Wendy had spent all her savings on her treatment. She asked John for help, but he refused.
“Do you know how much rent I pay for my house? I can’t afford it, but as a realtor, I need to have a lifestyle. Who would buy a house from someone who lives in a small house?” John explained to Wendy.
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One day, John received a call from Wendy’s neighbors saying she was at the hospital for surgery. John did not know about any surgery, but he drove to the hospital.
He reached Wendy’s room and saw her sitting on her bed, crying while a group of doctors spoke to her. The primary doctor noticed John and came out of the room and said, “Are you Mr. John Matthews, her son?” John nodded.
“Where have you been? We waited for someone next of kin, but since no one arrived, we decided to deliver the news to Wendy directly.”
“What news?”
“Mr. Matthews, your mother’s surgery did not give the expected results. We still haven’t noticed any significant movement in her legs. And we can’t be sure when we will see a change. We’ll have to wait and watch for now. Wendy has already signed the discharge formalities and is free to go.”
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John feigned empathy for Wendy and consoled her. As he took her in the wheelchair towards his car, he asked her how she arranged for the money.
“I didn’t want to trouble you for any money, son, so I made the decision myself.”
“What decision, mom?”
“I sold the house.”
John stopped in his tracks, stunned.
“Remember Joanne? My friend from the old book club who moved to another city? She introduced me to her nephew, who wanted to buy a house in our area. Actually, they called and said they were coming here to visit me—”
“Are you kidding, mom? You sold the house? And for what, a failed surgery? You’re so selfish! You didn’t even think of me! It’s my house too, right? I was waiting on that house after—”
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John stopped himself, but Wendy realized what he meant. She was hurt that all John cared about was his inheritance and did not care about her.
Wendy was wiping her tears when John got a call from a prospective customer. He walked away to answer it. After his call, he told Wendy he had an urgent meeting with his customer.
“Go, son. As I said, Joanne was coming to visit me. I’ll ask her to drop me at the nursing home, and I have already spoken to them about moving there.”
“You see, that’s what I’m talking about. I had no idea what you do—”
John was interrupted by another call. He shook his head with disgust at his mother and just took off. Wendy was quietly sobbing on the street near the parking lot, feeling alone and hurt.
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A year had passed, and John hadn’t spoken with his mother. One morning, he heard a car pull up near his driveway. He wasn’t expecting visitors. He went out and saw a senior woman get out of the car. She stood outside the car, searching for something in the glove compartment.
“Can I help you, ma’am?” John asked, confused to see a stranger park outside his house.
When the woman turned around, John had the shock of his life. It was Wendy, and she was able to walk on her feet.
“Mom, oh my God! How are you?”
“Much better, son. I love every moment.” Wendy’s positive response took John aback, and he invited her to the house and offered her a glass of water.
John did not know how to interact with her. Wendy broke the ice and said, “Don’t look so gloomy, son. Look, I’m fine now. Remember when you left me all alone on the street after I was out after a failed surgery?” John turned pale as he recounted his behavior.
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“Well! My friend Joanne and her nephew, Evan, arrived shortly after that. They were heartbroken seeing me all alone near the parking lot, so they took me with them instead of dropping me at the nursing home. Joanne had to leave the next day, but Evan offered me to stay with him in my old house. I mean, his house since he bought it from me.”
“He cared for me like a son and even found better doctors in another city. I was afraid of another surgery, but Evan was there by my side throughout. And miraculously, the surgery worked. Evan also paid for my knee replacement surgery. Not only can I walk, but I can also run like I used to when I was young.”
John was speechless. Although he was embarrassed, he did not like how Wendy praised a stranger. He snarled, “I get it. I was a horrible son. But if this Evan is so great, why are you even here?”
John heard another car pull up outside his house. A young man walked into his house.
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“Oh, Evan. Great timing. We were just talking about you,” Wendy chuckled, greeting Evan.
“Excuse me. You can’t just enter my house like that.” John said, furiously pointing at Evan.
“Well, but I can enter MY house, can’t I?” Evan’s words confused John.
As it turned out, Evan owned the house Jonathan was living in. John was unaware since he only dealt with the agency that mediated all the transactions. Furthermore, John had skipped six months’ rent and evaded calls from the agency.
The agency notified Evan after John skipped rent for a couple of months. But Evan knew that John was struggling based on what he heard from Wendy, so he decided to go easy on John and asked the agency to back off, too.
But when Wendy learned about John’s antics, she realized that she couldn’t give him any more rope. She urged Evan to punish John for not paying the rent.
“Oh, I almost forgot, son!” Wendy reached into her bag. “Here is the eviction notice. You have 15 days.” Wendy handed John the documents and left with Evan.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Getty Images
John sat on his couch and held his head. He realized that his behavior had finally led to him hitting rock bottom.
What can we learn from this story?
- Take care of your parents. Our parents sacrificed a lot to raise us; the least we can do for them in their old age is care for them. Wendy cared a lot for John even if he disrespected and hurt her. John never cared for Wendy when she needed him but still expected her house as an inheritance.
- Karma will always hit you back. John always treated Wendy with disdain and disrespect. His bad karma finally hit back when his mother decided to help evict him from his house.
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My daughter didn’t talk to me for a week. I decided to give her a harsh reality check
It all started when my daughter, Jessica, came home from school one day with a gloomy look on her face. As a single mother, I’ve always tried to provide the best for her despite our financial limitations. This time, it wasn’t a new pair of shoes or a trendy outfit she was asking for – it was a $50 Stanley Cup, a branded water mug. Apparently, the girls at her school were obsessed with them, and not having one made her a target for bullying.
I was taken aback. Was it really that big of a deal? Could a simple water cup hold such power over her social life? “Mom, everyone has one,” she pleaded. “They make fun of me because I don’t. I just want to fit in.” My heart ached for her, but the price tag was steep for a water cup, and I couldn’t justify it. I provided her with everything she needed, but a $50 cup seemed excessive and unnecessary.
“No, Jess, we can’t afford that right now,” I said firmly. She stormed off to her room, slamming the door behind her. Days turned into a week, and her cold shoulder only grew colder. The silence was deafening, and the tension in the house was palpable.
The Standoff
Jessica’s attitude didn’t change. She talked to me but always with an undercurrent of anger and entitlement. She was stubborn, and her determination to make me cave was impressive, albeit frustrating. I provided for her needs – food, a clean house, clothes, a roof over her head, and a bed to sleep in. But her silent treatment continued, and I realized I needed to take a stand and teach her a lesson about gratitude and priorities.
So, I made a decision. The next day, Jessica came home from school with her usual cold greeting and went straight to her room. Moments later, I heard a heart-wrenching scream, “NO, NO… MOOOOOOM, MOOOOM PLEASE!”
The Harsh Lesson
I walked into her room to find her looking at an empty space where her bed used to be. “Mom, what did you do? Where is my bed?” she cried out, tears streaming down her face.
I hugged her tightly, tears welling up in my eyes. “Jessica, I love you, and I only want what’s best for you. It’s important to appreciate what you have and not let material things dictate your happiness.”
We moved her bed back into her room together, and the rift between us began to heal. The lesson was learned, and our bond grew stronger as a result. Jessica still faced challenges at school, but she no longer let the pressure of fitting in with material possessions affect her self-worth.
The Resolution
In the end, the experience brought us closer. Jessica learned the value of gratitude and resilience, and I learned the importance of standing firm in my decisions as a parent. The $50 Stanley Cup might have been a symbol of acceptance at school, but the real lesson lay in understanding that true worth isn’t measured by branded possessions.
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