After Years of Leaving and Going back to My Cruel Dad, My Mom Showed up on My Doorstep Again — Story of the Day

My mom always left my dad, swearing it was for good, only to return after his apologies and gifts. It became a pattern I was used to, a cycle that never broke. But this time, when she showed up at my door with a suitcase, she had news that changed everything.

I sat across from my friend Sandy in my kitchen, enjoying a rare moment of free time together. Life got busy, and it felt like we never saw each other anymore.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

“It’s nice to finally catch up,” Sandy said with a smile.

“Yeah, it is,” I agreed, pouring her a glass of wine.

After a pause, she looked at me curiously. “Is your mom living with you now?”

“No, why would she?” Sandy’s eyebrows furrowed.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

“I thought she left your dad again?”

“Oh, you know how it goes with them. Every two years, same story. He messes up, she gets mad, packs her bags, and swears she’s done for good. Then he buys her something fancy, and suddenly all is forgiven. They act like they’re in love again, like nothing ever happened.” Sandy sighed.

“Have you tried talking some sense into her?”

“I did,” I said, feeling the old frustration return.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

“I told her she deserves better. But then she goes back to him, and she’d get mad at me, saying I wasn’t supporting her.”

Sandy frowned and took a sip of her wine. “I’m sorry, Amalia. That sounds hard.”

My eyes landed on the corner of the kitchen table, where my mom had left a note the last time she left my dad. I could still picture her then—standing in my doorway, suitcase in hand, her face full of hope.

“I’ve left him for good this time, Amalia,” she said with a determined smile.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

I wanted to believe her, but deep down, I doubted it. Still, a tiny hope stirred inside me, whispering that maybe this time would be different.

We went to a café nearby for breakfast, sitting across from each other. I took a deep breath, trying to steady my nerves, and finally said what I’d been too scared to say before.

“Mom, you know you can’t keep going back to him, right?” I asked, my voice steady.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

She looked down at her coffee, then back up at me with a weak smile. “Of course, I’m not planning to. I’ve made up my mind.”

I sighed and leaned closer. “He’s awful, Mom. He treated you terribly. He doesn’t change.”

“I know,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. I reached out and took her hand.

“I just want you to be happy. You deserve that, you know?”

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

She squeezed my hand, her eyes watering. “Thank you, dear. It means a lot.”

I thought maybe my words got through to her. Maybe this time would be different. But when I came back from work that evening, the house was quiet. I called for her, but no answer.

Instead, a note sat on the table: “Your father apologized and bought me a new car. I realized I overreacted and went back. XX Mom.” I crumpled the note, tossing it into the trash. How foolish I’d been to hope.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

Sandy’s words pulled me out of my thoughts. “You should understand your mom better than anyone,” she said. “You left Robert, and that was hard. But you did it.”

I shrugged. “Yeah, it was hard. But I knew I had to.” She lifted her glass, her eyes warm.

“Well, I think you’re strong as hell. Cheers to that.”

I laughed and raised my glass. “Cheers.”

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

The next morning, I woke up late. My alarm didn’t go off, or maybe I just slept through it. Either way, I was rushing around, trying to get dressed, find my keys, and grab my bag all at once.

My hair was a mess, and I could barely think straight. I could already tell it was going to be one of those days where nothing goes right. As I tried to slip on my shoes, I heard the doorbell. I glanced at the clock.

I didn’t have time for this. “Damn it,” I muttered, frustrated. I opened the door and froze. There stood my mom, holding a suitcase, her face serious.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

I didn’t mean to sound harsh, but the words slipped out. “What did Dad do this time?!”

She didn’t flinch. She didn’t look away. Her eyes stayed locked on mine, and she said, “He died.”

For a moment, everything around me just stopped. I couldn’t breathe or think. My mind went completely blank, like a switch had been turned off. I tried to say something, anything, but no words came out.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

After hearing the news, I called my boss and said I needed the day off. There wasn’t much I could explain, so I just told him there was a family emergency. My mom and I got in the car and drove back to my childhood home.

When we arrived, I walked into my old bedroom and felt a rush of memories. Everything was the same—the posters on the wall, the faded bedspread, even the little figurines on the shelf. It was like stepping back in time, and for a moment, I felt like I was a teenager again.

On the morning of the funeral, I woke up to loud music blasting through the house. I groaned, pulled the pillow over my head, but Mom just turned it up louder, filling every corner of the house.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

“Mom! Turn it off!” I shouted, my voice barely cutting through the blaring music.

“What?!” she yelled back from somewhere down the hall. “Hold on, I can’t hear you!”

A moment later, the music stopped, and I heard her footsteps. She appeared in my doorway, looking calm, like it was just a regular morning. “What were you saying?” she asked, tilting her head.

“Why is the music so loud?” I asked, trying to keep my voice steady. “It’s too early for this.”

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

She shrugged, a small smile on her face. “This song makes me happy,” she said, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

I stared at her. “You’re not supposed to feel happy today. It’s the funeral.”

She looked at me, still smiling. “Why not? You should feel happy every day, no matter what’s happening.”

I sighed, rubbing my temples. “Besides, this song is like 20 years old. Nobody listens to it anymore.”

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

She raised an eyebrow. “You used to love it,” she said. “I remember you dancing around your room, singing every word.”

“Yeah,” I replied, “and then I got sick of it, like everyone else.”

She paused for a moment. “I don’t know. When I love something, I love it forever,” she said softly, then turned and walked out. A few seconds later, the music started up again, just as loud.

After greeting everyone at the church, shaking hands, and hearing the same phrases—”I’m so sorry for your loss,” “He was a good man”—I felt drained. It was like I was on autopilot, just nodding and thanking people without really thinking.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

I needed a break, so I slipped away to a small, quiet room at the back of the church. I was hoping to be alone for a minute, but when I walked in, Mom was already there, sitting by the window. She looked up and smiled, her eyes tired but calm.

“I don’t like funerals either,” Mom said, staring out the window.

I just scoffed, feeling a bitter laugh rise in my throat. “Yeah, well, we’re stuck here.”

She turned back to me. “Did you prepare your speech?” she asked, her tone gentle.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

I shook my head. “I’m not saying anything. I don’t have anything good to say about him.”

Mom’s face softened, like she was trying to understand. “Why not? He was a good father and a wonderful husband.”

I stared at her, stunned. “You’ve got to be kidding me. Are we talking about the same person?”

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

She looked confused. “Why do you hate him so much?” she asked, almost like she truly didn’t understand. “I never got it.”

“Why? Do you really want to know?” I felt something snap inside, and the words just came pouring out. “When I was 13, you went on a business trip, and my friend stayed over. We heard noises from your bedroom. We thought someone was hurt, so we went to check…”

“…And there he was, in bed with Mrs. Brown, our neighbor. I just screamed and ran out of the house. And when I came back, he didn’t say a word to me. He pretended like it never happened, like I didn’t see it. That’s why I hated him. And I still hate him,” I said, my voice trembling.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

Mom’s eyes softened. “I know.”

“You don’t know how I feel!” I shouted, tears welling up.

“I mean, I know about the affairs,” she said, her voice calm.

“You knew?” I asked, shocked. “And you did nothing?”

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

“Of course I knew,” she said softly.

“Then I hate you too,” I said, my voice cold. I turned to leave, but her voice stopped me.

“I’m sorry, Amalia,” Mom said. “I’m sorry I wasn’t strong like you. I was scared to leave him. I didn’t know how to do it for good.”

“You think I wasn’t scared when I left Robert? I was terrified,” I said, my voice shaking a little. “But I did it because I knew I had to. And you know what? It was hard, but eventually, it felt… freeing.”

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

“I’m glad to hear that. I never liked Robert, you know. When you left him, I was so proud. You knew you deserved better. But it wasn’t the same for me. When I love something, I love it forever. And I loved your father.” I stared at her, confused.

“Even after he treated you that way?”

She nodded. “He wasn’t perfect. I never needed him to be. He had flaws, and some were really big ones. But he always came back.”

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

I frowned, trying to understand.

She sighed, her eyes meeting mine. “Honestly, I’m glad to hear you hate me. Because all this time, I thought you didn’t care. And between hate and indifference, I’d rather have your hate.”

I didn’t expect those words to hit me the way they did, but they did. For some reason, I found myself smiling a little. I glanced at the clock. “We need to go. People will be waiting.”

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

Mom gently placed her hand on my back. “You know, your father loved two things most in life: expensive liquor and making you laugh. Maybe you can mention that in your speech, but… skip the first part,” she said, a small smile tugging at her lips.

I couldn’t help but laugh, a real, honest laugh, and for a moment, the tension lifted. We left the small room together, side by side, and I felt something shift inside me.

I glanced at Mom and realized she wasn’t just my mom—she was a person, with her own fears, flaws, and regrets. I had always seen her as someone who should be stronger, someone who should have known better. But in that moment, I understood she was just trying her best, like I was.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

Tell us what you think about this story and share it with your friends. It might inspire them and brighten their day.

If you enjoyed this story, read this one: While helping her mother, Sarah, move into a new house, Natalie stumbles upon an old photograph hidden in a box. It shows a young Sarah holding a newborn baby with a distinctive birthmark on its cheek. But Natalie never had a birthmark. Confused and unsettled, she realizes there’s a secret her mother has been hiding.

This piece is inspired by stories from the everyday lives of our readers and written by a professional writer. Any resemblance to actual names or locations is purely coincidental. All images are for illustration purposes only. Share your story with us; maybe it will change someone’s life.

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I Asked My Grandmother to Walk Down the Aisle at My Wedding — My Family Demands That I Apologize for It

Just days before her wedding, Leah discovers that her grandmother didn’t have a wedding. Unable to sleep due to her grandmother having missed her opportunity, Leah wants her grandparents to have their moment and walk down the aisle. Instead of it playing out as Leah plans, she has to deal with a grandmother in a wedding dress, an embarrassed grandfather, and livid family members. Did she ruin her own wedding just to give her grandmother a memory?

“Tell me about your wedding, Gran,” I asked, rocking back and forth on the porch swing. The night was quiet, and we were a week away from my wedding.

A person sitting on a porch swing | Source: Midjourney

A person sitting on a porch swing | Source: Midjourney

All I wanted to do was soak up the time I had left with my grandmother because once we were married, Nate and I would be moving away.

“Oh, honey, there wasn’t really a wedding. Your grandfather always promised, but it never happened,” she smiled, her eyes distant.

A smiling old woman |  Source: Pexels

A smiling old woman | Source: Pexels

“Never?” I asked, frowning.

My grandmother shook her head.

“No. He didn’t even propose, Leah,” she said. “He always said that we’d get around to it eventually, but life just kept getting in the way. We raised our kids, took care of the house, and before I knew it, decades had passed.”

A woman washing dishes | Source: Unsplash

A woman washing dishes | Source: Unsplash

“But you are married, right?” I asked, trying to understand why my grandmother’s words felt like such a blow to me.

“Married, yes. Your grandfather took me down to the courthouse, and we signed away our single lives. He didn’t ask me; he just said that it was going to happen. And it did.”

The exterior of a court house | Source: Unsplash

The exterior of a court house | Source: Unsplash

My heart ached for her.

“But you wanted one, right? A wedding, I mean,” I pressed.

Her smile was wistful.

“I did, but I let go of that dream a long time ago. Now, come on, I’ll make you some hot chocolate before you leave.”

Two mugs of hot chocolate | Source: Midjourney

Two mugs of hot chocolate | Source: Midjourney

Later that night, when I went back home to my fiancé, I couldn’t sleep at all. My grandmother’s words replayed in my mind, and I felt a deep sadness for her unfulfilled dream.

By morning, I had an idea. It seemed perfect. To me, everything was good. Everything made sense.

A woman lying in bed | Source: Unsplash

A woman lying in bed | Source: Unsplash

“Nate, can I run something by you?” I asked my fiancé over breakfast.

He nodded, looking up at me and smiling.

“What if Grandma walked down the aisle at our wedding?” I asked.

Eggs and bacon in a frying pan | Source: Midjourney

Eggs and bacon in a frying pan | Source: Midjourney

“Leah, what on earth do you mean?” he asked, sipping his coffee.

I sat across from him, nibbling on some toast, and I told him everything that my grandmother told me the previous night.

A man holding a mug | Source: Unsplash

A man holding a mug | Source: Unsplash

“So, you’re saying that you want your grandmother to walk down the aisle in a wedding dress?”

“Yes,” I said, getting more excited by the idea. “We could get her a simple dress and some flowers. And she could walk down the aisle. It would be like giving her a piece of the wedding she never had.”

Nate smiled at me, the smile reaching his eyes.

An old woman in a wedding dress | Source: Midjourney

An old woman in a wedding dress | Source: Midjourney

“Leah, what on earth do you mean?” he asked, sipping his coffee.

I sat across from him, nibbling on some toast, and I told him everything that my grandmother told me the previous night.

A man holding a mug | Source: Unsplash

A man holding a mug | Source: Unsplash

“So, you’re saying that you want your grandmother to walk down the aisle in a wedding dress?”

“Yes,” I said, getting more excited by the idea. “We could get her a simple dress and some flowers. And she could walk down the aisle. It would be like giving her a piece of the wedding she never had.”

Nate smiled at me, the smile reaching his eyes.

An old woman in a wedding dress | Source: Midjourney

An old woman in a wedding dress | Source: Midjourney

A hanging garment bag | Source: Midjourney

A hanging garment bag | Source: Midjourney

She gasped quietly, tears welling up in her eyes.

“Oh, sweetheart, I couldn’t…”

“Yes, you can,” I said firmly, handing her a bouquet of flowers. “I know that you’re married to Grandpa already, but this is part of your dream. Let’s make it happen.”

A bouquet of flowers | Source: Unsplash

A bouquet of flowers | Source: Unsplash

She hugged me tightly, nodding against my ear. I asked another one of my bridesmaids to take my grandmother to one of the other dressing rooms so that she could take in the moment for herself.

Next, I asked for my grandfather to come to my dressing room.

A bride in a dressing room | Source: Pexels

A bride in a dressing room | Source: Pexels

“Grandpa, we’re going to have Grandma walk down the aisle today. Like a bride, okay? You guys can have your moment. And it will be beautiful because we get to share the day.”

He snorted, immediately dismissive.

An upset old man | Source: Pexels

An upset old man | Source: Pexels

“Leah, that’s ridiculous,” he said. “At our age? It’s more a mockery than anything else.”

I was taken aback by his reaction.

“But it’s something that Gran has always wanted.”

Instead, he waved me off.

“I’m not interested, Leah. We are here for your wedding. That’s it.”

An old man holding a cane | Source: Pexels

An old man holding a cane | Source: Pexels

Despite his refusal, the ceremony proceeded. I knew that I should have tried to convince him harder, but there wasn’t any time.

As the music started, my grandmother stepped onto the aisle, with me watching her from behind.

“It’s okay,” I told her before. “You just do it alone if you have to. Walk to Nate, and then you can take a seat at the front. And then it will be my turn to walk to my future husband.”

A groom | Source: Unsplash

A groom | Source: Unsplash

There was confusion when Gran started walking down the aisle, especially because she wasn’t walking toward my grandfather, but to Nate instead.

As she walked, guests gasped, unable to comprehend what was going on.

My grandfather’s face turned red, and he stood up abruptly. He looked me straight in the eye as he stormed out of the venue.

An old man with his mouth open | Source: Pexels

An old man with his mouth open | Source: Pexels

I felt a pang of guilt but quickly refocused my attention on my grandmother, who had hugged Nate and was beaming with joy.

When she sat down, my entrance music began, and I walked down the aisle bursting with love for Nate. I hadn’t expected him to be okay with any of it, but the fact that he was just made everything more magical.

“Hey there,” he said as he took my hand when I reached the altar.

A couple at the altar | Source: Midjourney

A couple at the altar | Source: Midjourney

The rest of the ceremony went off without any hiccups, and whenever I turned to look at my Gran, she had her little handkerchief in her hands ready to dab her eyes.

But then, everything changed after the ceremony.

It started with my nephew crashing into the table holding the champagne glasses, leaving glass everywhere.

Shattered glass | Source: Pexels

Shattered glass | Source: Pexels

And then, instead of my family coming to me and throwing confetti on Nate and myself in celebration, they did the exact opposite.

My parents pulled me aside, my mother tugging harshly at my arm.

“What were you thinking, Leah?” she hissed. “You embarrassed your grandfather with that childish stunt. Why does it always have to be about you?”

An angry woman | Source: Pexels

An angry woman | Source: Pexels

“It wasn’t about me!” I protested. “It was about Grandma and her dream. She deserved this moment as much as I did. As much as you did when you got married, too.”

“And what about your grandfather?” my father chimed in, flagging down a waiter with canapes as he spoke. “You made a good old fool of him.”

But it didn’t stop there.

An angry man | Source: Pexels

An angry man | Source: Pexels

My relatives kept coming up to me, agreeing with my parents. They didn’t even allow me to eat my first meal with Nate as his wife or have our first dance together.

It was all about them and how they thought that I had ruined my grandfather’s mood, and was it worth it?

“Of course, it’s worth it!” I told my mother’s sister when she slid into the chair next to me. “Anything for Gran!”

“It’s okay,” Nate said, as he pulled me into his arms, my tears threatening to escape.

A bridal couple standing together | Source: Pexels

A bridal couple standing together | Source: Pexels

“Did I ruin our wedding?” I asked him.

“You did no such thing,” he reassured me. “I’ll get the car, we can go to the hotel. We’ll take your grandmother, too. I’ve seen how everyone has been circling her.”

Later that night, I sat with my grandmother in her hotel room. Nate had booked her a room for the night.

A parked black car | Source: Pexels

A parked black car | Source: Pexels

“Spend time with her,” he said. “Let her know that you truly meant today as a way of healing her. She needs to know that. You can come to me later.”

“Did I do the right thing?” I asked, my voice trembling.

I knew that in my heart, I had done the right thing, but it was the way everyone else reacted.

My grandmother took my hand, her eyes full of gratitude.

Two woman sitting together | Source: Pexels

Two woman sitting together | Source: Pexels

“You gave me a moment I never thought I’d have, Leah. Thank you, darling.”

Her words comforted me, but the rift with my family remained. They demanded that I apologize to my Grandpa, who doesn’t want to see me.

All I knew is that I cannot bring myself to regret giving Grandma her moment.

A smiling woman sitting on a bed | Source: Pexels

A smiling woman sitting on a bed | Source: Pexels

What do you think? Did I do the right thing?

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