My name is Patty, and at 90, I can claim a blessed life. After my husband passed, it was just me and my daughter, Angie. For my 90th birthday, Angie promised to visit with my grandchildren. I was excited, but as the day wore on, I heard nothing from her.
“John was the closest thing I’d had to a son of my own. He was caring and had a heart of gold.”
John, Angie’s ex-husband, arrived with flowers and gifts, surprising me. He brought my favorite chocolate and we cooked dinner together. I appreciated his company, especially since Angie never showed up.
John called Angie and found out she was on vacation with her new boyfriend and the kids. I was hurt that she hadn’t told me.
“Vacation? And she didn’t tell anyone? She just up and left? Why would she do that?” I asked.
John’s visit softened the blow, but my daughter’s actions left a lasting wound. She promised to visit soon, but the damage was done. I still love her, but trusting her is now difficult.
