I Looked After My Elderly Neighbor, but Her Son Blamed Me for Not Doing Enough

Debbie, living in a quiet neighborhood, becomes close to her elderly neighbor, Mrs. Jenkins, and begins to care for her. But when Deb’s mother has to undergo surgery, she has no option but to go home and care for her mother… only for her to receive a horrible phone call from Steve, Mrs. Jenkins’ son, accusing her of not doing enough.

Look, I didn’t want revenge on anybody, especially not for just being kind to an elderly neighbor.

I live in a quiet neighborhood, and my next-door neighbor, Mrs. Jenkins, is an 82-year-old widow. She’s frail, lonely, and honestly, sad. It’s like she’s been forgotten by her own family. Her only son, Steve, lives just 20 minutes away but rarely visits.

Whenever I saw her on the porch, she seemed so lost, staring off into the distance. My heart went out to her, so I started helping where I could.

For over a year, I’ve been running small errands. Groceries, appointments, clearing her driveway of leaves in the fall and snow in the winter.

“I don’t know what I’d do without you, Debbie,” she said to me one morning after I dropped off her groceries, including some freshly baked bread for her breakfast.

“I’m here for anything you need, Marlene,” I said.

Honestly, it wasn’t much, but I felt good knowing that I was helping. Especially since her real family was so absent.

“Steve?” she said one day when I asked about him. “That kid means everything to me, but I know I don’t mean as much to my son. It’s okay. You’re here.”

She would always smile like I was her favorite person.

This man, who barely knew his mother’s daily life, had the audacity to accuse me of not doing enough.
But things took a dark turn when I had to leave town for a few weeks. I couldn’t help it, my mother was in the hospital after being diagnosed with fibroids and cysts that needed to be removed.

I had to be there with her. There was no way about it.

“I’m coming, Mom,” I said. “Don’t you worry about a thing.”

“But, Deb,” my mother whined. “I don’t want to disturb your routine. Dad’s here, I’ll be fine with him.”

“Mom, I work from home. I can work from anywhere,” I said sternly. “And anyway, Dad’s idea of taking care of someone is making chicken noodle soup. That’s pretty much it. You’re going for invasive surgery. You need me.”

Before I left, I stocked Mrs. Jenkins’ house with groceries, made sure that she had everything she needed, and asked our neighbor Karen to check in on her from time to time.

“I’ll be back as soon as I can, Marlene,” I said. “Don’t you worry about a thing. And I’ve asked little Josh to come over and check your mail. He knows that if there’s anything in your mailbox, he has to bring it right to you.”

“Thank you, darling,” she said. “You’re too good to me.”

I thought I’d covered all my bases.

Ten days into my stay with my parents, my phone rang while I was cooking dinner. I didn’t recognize the number, but I picked up anyway.

“Debbie?” the voice snapped when I answered. “Are you the neighbor who’s supposed to be taking care of my mom?”

It was Steve. Mrs. Jenkins’ son. The man who barely showed up for his own mother.

For a second, I got nervous, hoping that nothing had happened to her.

“I just got a call from my mother,” he continued, not even stopping for me to speak. “She ran out of milk. And you’re out of town? Why didn’t you make sure she had enough before you left?”

I was absolutely floored. This man, who barely knew his mother’s daily life, had the audacity to accuse me of not doing enough.

Me?

“Steve,” I said, trying to remain calm. “I’m out of town because my mom is in the hospital. This is where I need to be. I stocked your mom up before I left. And I spoke to Karen, our neighbor, to check on her.”

Instead of apologizing or offering to help like any normal person, he shot back.

“Well, that’s just not good enough, Debbie. If you’re going to take care of my mother, then you need to do it right! I can’t be running around getting her things whenever you drop the ball.”

I almost screamed. The audacity of this man was astounding.

How could he accuse me of dropping the ball when I’d been doing everything for her? Especially while he sat back and did nothing!

I took a deep breath.

“Steve, she’s your mother. You can’t expect me to do everything for her while you’re right there, and do nothing! Maybe you should help her out for once.”

His response was just sad.

“You’re pathetic,” he said. “You don’t even do that much for her.”

Before I could retaliate, I just cut the call. I didn’t want to say anything worse, and I also didn’t want to risk it getting back to Marlene and upsetting her.

Later, as I sat with my mom in her hospital room, I couldn’t stop replaying that conversation. By the time I got home, I knew exactly what I needed to do.

“Go home, honey,” my mother said when I told her about Steve’s phone call. “I’m doing just fine, and my progress is great. The doctor is really happy with me. I told you, Dad and I will be fine!”

I really didn’t want to leave, but I missed my own home. And I missed working from my own space, too. So, I left a few days later.

When I got back, the first thing I did was check on Mrs. Jenkins. Thankfully, she was fine. It turns out that Karen had taken care of the milk situation, and Mrs. Jenkins had no idea about the chaos Steve had stirred up.

“What? Really? He said that?” she exclaimed, shocked.

Steve had to step up. He was not happy about it. Not at all.

As glad as I was that Steve hadn’t fed her any stories about me, I wasn’t going to allow him to get away with this.

The next day, I gently told Mrs. Jenkins that I wouldn’t be able to help her as much anymore.

“I have other commitments, Marlene,” I said sadly. “I have to check on my mother more often, too. She’s going to need me for the next few weeks.”

She looked disappointed, but she reassured me that she understood.

A few weeks went by, and Steve had no choice but to step up. Naturally, he wasn’t happy about it. Sometimes, as I worked from my living room, I could see him showing up to his mother’s house. He always looked irritated, like running an errand for his mother was the biggest burden anyone could have placed on him.

When I did visit Mrs. Jenkins next, she smiled and told me that she was relying on Steve more.

“I call him for everything,” she said. “Milk, teabags, and even help with the gutters.”

One afternoon, Mrs. Jenkins asked me to help her sort through some old papers. That’s when we stumbled upon her will.

Naturally, Steve was listed as the sole beneficiary.

“It’s a shame that Steve cannot spend more time with you,” I said casually. “You know, with work and whatnot.”

“I know, dear,” Mrs. Jenkins sighed. “But he’s been like that. Sometimes I think he only sticks around for what I’ll leave him.”

That was all the confirmation I needed.

“You know, Marlene,” I said. “You don’t have to leave everything to Steve. It might be nice to donate some to charity or leave something for the people who have always been there for you. That’s a sweet gesture. Think about it.”

“You’re right, Debbie,” she said. “I’ll think about it.”

A week later, Mrs. Jenkins updated her will. Steve still got his share, but she also included several charities to get vast portions of her estate. She left a little something for me, too, though I didn’t ask for it.

It wasn’t about the money. It was about showing Steve that neglect and greed have consequences.

When Steve found out, he stormed to my house, knocking furiously on my door.

“You convinced my mother to give away my inheritance? You manipulative little…”

I cut him off before he could finish his sentence.

“I didn’t convince her of anything. Maybe if you spent more time with her, you’d know what she really wanted.”

Steve spluttered, his face turning red. He shouted a few more insults and stormed off, but I could see it in his eyes.

He knew that he had lost.

Now, the lovely Mrs. Jenkins is happier than ever, and I’m taking her to the ballet later this week. Steve is sulking, likely regretting all the time he wasted.

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And as for me? I’m happy knowing that Mrs. Jenkins isn’t being taken advantage of by Steve.

Sometimes, the best revenge is just letting someone realize their own failure.

What would you have done?

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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

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

“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

“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

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

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

“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

“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

“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

“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

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

Nate smiled at me, the smile reaching his eyes.

An old woman in a wedding dress | 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

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

“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

“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

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

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

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

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

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

“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

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

“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.