I raised my kid alone and gave him everything, even my retirement money. However, my grandson’s toy walkie-talkie showed how little it mattered to the guy I nurtured. Mothers who have sacrificed for family need to hear this.
You give your life to others hoping they’ll love you back. Love sometimes makes you easy prey. Grace is 60 and has always put family first.
Henry, our kid, was seven when my husband died. I cleaned homes, washed dishes, and worked additional hours to feed us.
My four-year-old grandson Liam has the loveliest curls and a laugh that can brighten any day. He held out a plastic walkie-talkie with sticky palms and exclaimed, “Grandma Grace, this is for you!” a week ago.
Dear, what’s this for?
“So we can talk in my room! Simply push this button and pronounce my name!”
Attached to my apron. “I love it, little one.”
He forcefully grabbed my legs. The thin wall let me hear Sarah calling him home. We reside at Pineview Apartments next door. Same hall. Same creaking flooring.
I helped them purchase the house five years ago when Sarah was pregnant with Liam.
“So our boy can grow up near grandma!” Henry and Sarah said, beaming.
I invested $40,000 from retirement. It was a lot, but I didn’t hesitate. Family was more important to me than money back then.
I wash my hands with hot water and soap in Carter’s Diner’s back most nights. My hands hurt, yet bills don’t pay themselves.
I did not hesitate when Henry asked me to assist with Liam’s childcare. Despite my troubles, I agreed. Loving someone makes it work.
“Mom, it’s $800 a month,” he stated last winter. “We’re tight.”
I sent the money monthly without fail. Care for my grandchild was worth pushing myself thin.
After a 10-hour shift, I reluctantly returned home Wednesday night. My feet hurt. My back ached. I slumped in my old armchair and closed my eyes.
Suddenly, my apron walkie-talkie buzzed with static.
Daddy, you there? It was Liam’s tired voice.
I grinned.
However, more voices appeared. Sarah laughed… keen and cunning.
Really, Henry, we should rent her extra room. She never comes home.”
Keeping the walkie-talkie near blurred everything else.
“That room could rent for $600 a month!” Sarah continued. “She wouldn’t notice with all those late shifts.”
Henry chuckled. Mom trusts too much. Since forever.”
“Speaking of trust,” Sarah lit up. We can go to Hawaii once she pays for Liam’s swimming lessons. She’ll watch him gratis.”
My body froze. Not fear, but profound, hollow anguish that freezes you cold.
“The best part?” Sarah laughed. “She estimates $800 for daycare. Just $500! She never suspects we keep $300 every month.”
Henry laughed. When she’s too elderly to help, we’ll put her in a care facility. Get some stable revenue by renting her property. “That extra room is gold!”
“Your mother is easy prey. She’ll do everything for Liam.”
No doubt!”
The walkie-talkie fell from my quivering palms.
I stared at the wall separating us in the dark. The wall I funded. The obstacle they wanted to overcome by renting my place.
My son. I raised my son alone. Fed. Clothed. Wholeheartedly loved. How could he?
The static ceased, and my house was poisoned by stillness.
No sleep that night. Or next. I heard Sarah’s nasty laugh and Henry’s thoughtless betrayal of my sacrifices every time I closed my eyes.
How can you offer so much and mean nothing? How do they disregard your affection for their own gain?
Scrubbing dishes injured my hands. Skipped meals to fill their brief months. And I was this to them? Paycheck?
It was then I knew. They kept going until I stopped them. My silence was over.
Saturday was my 60th birthday. I planned a light meal.
Henry and Sarah came with store-bought cake and phony grins.
“Happy birthday, Mom!” Henry kissed my cheek. “You look exhausted. Overworking again?
Sarah put the cake down. “We should discuss helping you. Maybe a cleaner?
My hands poured coffee steadily. Nice of you.”
Liam raced to me with a crayon sketch and flower. “Grandmaaaa! Made you a picture! This is for you.”
The artwork shows three stick figures holding hands. Him, myself, and a dog-like creature. “That’s you, me, and Buddy!” he boasted.
“We have no dog, sweetie!” Sara corrected.
But Grandma wants one. She informed me.”
Henry chuckled. Mom doesn’t need a dog. She’s barely coping.”
Putting my coffee down, I rose slowly. “Take some cake. Start with a toast.”
Raised my cup. They smiled hopefully.
“To family. To the world’s most trusted people.”
“To family!” they repeated.
I’ve always said family is everything. Henry, I worked three jobs after your dad died to support us. I sacrificed my aspirations for yours.”
Henry shifted awkwardly. Mom, what’s up?
“I paid $40,000 for this home to keep Liam close. I spend $800 monthly for his daycare because I love him more than anything else.
Sarah smiled less.
“But then, I learned.” Set down my cup. “The daycare is $500.”
Henry paled.
You took $300 from me. Every month. Lie to me and laugh behind my back. Plan to rent my room without asking. When I’m too elderly to be helpful, you’ll put me in a care facility and rent my property. After my service to you.”
Mom, we can explain…
“Explain? How you termed me easily marked? How you ridiculed my trust?
Sarah rose rapidly. “You listened!”
I got a toy walkie-talkie from your youngster! Truth escapes, right?
Mom, we needed money. Home and vehicle payments…
“You stole from your mother? The lady who gave you all?”
I took my checkbook from the kitchen drawer. Eyes followed.
This ends. No more $800. Free babysitting ends. No more hollow promises.”
A $500 check was written. Actual childcare expense.
From now on, whatever dime I save goes to Liam. I’ll give it to him at 18. Not by you.”
“And my bedroom door will be locked now.”
Silence extended. Henry regarded his hands. Sarah’s lips opened and closed silently.
Liam seemed perplexed between us. Grandma, are you mad?
I knelt alongside him. Not at you, dear. Never at you.”
“Can we use walkie-talkies?”
Touched his cheek. “Every night, kid. That’s our specialty.”
Henry spoke. Mom, please. We regret. We’ll repay.”
“With what? My money you stole?”
On his cheeks were tears. I know we erred. You’re my mom. You cannot ignore us.”
Cut you off? Henry, I gave my everything. When you experienced nightmares at 8, who hugged you? You fractured your arm at 12, who remained in the hospital all night? Who worked extra for two years to pay for college while broke?
“Please, Mom…”
After you ran out of money, who paid for your wedding flowers to Sarah? Who took unpaid leave to care for Liam? Who depleted her retirement savings for a home?
“I gave you everything. “You treated me like a fool you could rob.”
Henry hid his face in his hands. We never intended it to go this far.”
Every month, Henry. You saw me give that money. You knew I missed meals to pay. You know I worn the same coat for three winters since I couldn’t purchase one.”
Sarah spoke. Grace, we needed…
“You needed my money. Not me. Only my money.”
I got up and cleared the table. The same manner I cleaned up messes for 35 years.
But this time felt different.
Henry, I raised you honest. To be nice. To safeguard your loved ones. Your father would be devastated.”
Mom, don’t say that.”
“Don’t give me a reason.”
They departed silently. Liam held his walkie-talkie and waved farewell from the corridor.
As usual, I had to do the dishes alone. However, my window reflection was stronger.
Around nightfall, static buzzed again.
“Grandma Grace? You there?”
Pressed the button. “I’m here, sweetie.”
Dad’s weeping. Mother’s upset. Did I do wrong?
A little heartache. No, sweetie. Did everything correctly. You gave your granny the nicest gift.”
The walkie-talkie?
“The truth, child. Though it hurts, the truth is the only thing that frees us.”
Will you adore me?
Everlastingly. Grandmas do that.”
“Goodnight, Grandma Grace.”
“Good night, precious boy.”
I attached the walkie-talkie to my apron. I’d open Liam’s savings account shortly. I will now invest every dime I make in his future, which he deserves. Not his parents’ next vacation.
Love supposedly blinds. Betrayal broadens your views more than you intended. Love without respect is deception.
Learned that lesson for 60 years. Time to live.
