Jessica never appreciated her grandmother Donna and she would often mock her. In fact, when she got married, she didn’t even invite the poor woman. But the young lady regretted her decision when she opened her grandma’s wedding gift.
Jessica was born and raised in New York with business-oriented parents. Since she was a single child, she’d always been the center of attraction in her family, and her parents and grandmother had never let any of her requests go unanswered.
However, Jessica never appreciated their efforts and took them for granted. In fact, when she visited Donna’s house in Texas during her summer vacations, she was constantly annoyed with her, and when Donna’s health began to fail her, and she moved to New York, things only got worse.
Donna gifted an old chest to Jessica as a wedding present | Photo: Shutterstock
One day, Donna decided to accompany Jessica to school because her parents had to leave urgently for work. Donna held Jessica’s hand at the crossing before the school because she was afraid to cross the road, but instead of standing by her grandmother, Jessica lashed out at her.
“What the hell is wrong with you?” she snapped. “My friends will mock me if they see me coming to school with a poor old lady like you, so cross the road by yourself.”
Donna’s eyes welled up with tears. She swallowed her tears and struggled to cross the street that day, but Jessica wasn’t done mocking her.
Upon reaching the school, she didn’t even let Donna enter the campus. “You don’t have to come in, Grandma,” Jessica remarked. “You’ve already bothered me enough for the day, so go back home and ask mom to pick me up.”
The frail 80-year-old woman somehow hid her tears at her granddaughter’s remarks and strolled back home, hoping that things would change over time, but unfortunately, that did not happen.
Donna was hurt by Jessica’s words | Photo: Pexels
When Jessica turned 25, she announced her engagement to Edward. He was the son of her father’s business partner and was quite wealthy.
The families had planned for the wedding to take place a month after the engagement at the best wedding venue in New York. So when Jessica was putting together the guest list, she made sure Donna wasn’t on it.
“I have added everyone except Grandma because she won’t be coming,” Jessica said while they were discussing the wedding guests. “And I don’t want to talk about it any further.”
“But, honey,” her father explained, “she’s your grandmother. We can’t just abandon her like that!”
“He’s right, Jess,” her mother continued. “You can’t be so rude to her.”
“See guys, it’s MY wedding. Edward and I have waited for this moment for so long, and I don’t want to ruin it. Grandma is not up to our standard; let’s accept that, okay. So, SHE’S NOT COMING. Anyway, she’s living off us, so I don’t know how you guys will talk it out with her but make this clear to her,” Jessica said and walked away.
When everyone sat down for breakfast the following day, Jessica’s parents were still debating how to tell Donna about the conversation they had with their daughter the night before.
Donna was not invited to Jessica’s wedding | Photo: Pexels
But Donna had overhead everything, so before anyone else said anything, she spoke up. “I’m sorry, everyone,” she began. “I know Jessica’s wedding is next month, but I don’t think I’ll be able to attend.”
“That’s sad, Grandma,” Jessica responded, trying to hide her delight at her grandmother’s words. “But it’s okay, I understand.”
“I’m sure you do, honey,” Donna remarked. “I wish you two a happy married life!” Then the poor woman got up and left.
Jessica’s wedding took place a month later, and everything went exactly as she had planned. The wedding hall was beautiful, and most importantly, Donna wasn’t there. Jessica was thrilled, to say the least. But the next day, when she answered the door, she saw Donna standing there with an old chest in her hand.
“What on earth are you doing here?” Jessica exploded. “I told my in-laws you weren’t feeling well, that’s why you didn’t show up to the wedding. Do you want to expose me as a liar in front of them? Is this some sort of retaliation?”
“No, honey,” Donna clarified. “I just came to say hello and to give you your wedding gift. I could have parceled it to you, but I wanted to give it to you personally.”
Donna showed up at Jessica’s doorstep the next day | Photo: Pexels
“There was no need for that, and I don’t need anything from you, so just go!” Jessica chastised. But then Edward came in and interrupted them. “What a delightful surprise, Mrs. Matthews! I heard you were ill. Are you feeling any better now?”
“Of course I am!” Donna cracked a grin. “I just came to say hello to you two. I’m sorry I couldn’t attend the wedding.”
“Oh, it’s fine!” Edward explained. “Please come in.”
Edward escorted Donna inside, served her tea, and later drove her home. Jessica spoke politely to Donna in front of everyone and accepted her gift, but when she left, she threw it in the corner of her room and forgot about it.
In fact, she never contacted Donna after that day, and a few weeks later, she left with Edward for their honeymoon in Las Vegas. When she returned, though, she learned Donna had passed away. But Jessica was hardly concerned and was instead preoccupied with deciding which brand to wear to the funeral.
Finally, after two hours of perusing her outfits, she decided on a Gucci dress. She went on to look for matching earrings when her attention was drawn to the chest Donna had given her.
Donna had left a letter for Jessica | Photo: Pexels
Oh, poor thing! Jessica said as she glanced at the rusty box. She could never match our standards. Did she really think I’d accept this disgusting chest as a gift?
However, when she opened it, her expression changed. The chest included an expensive diamond pendant, a photo album, and a note addressed to her on the top. Jessica unfolded the letter and began to read it.
“I’m sorry I could never provide you with the things you loved, Jessica,” it began. “But trust me, I love you a lot. I wanted to be the best grandmother to you, but fate had other plans for us.
“Anyway, I wish you a happy married life, honey. Edward is a wonderful man. Please accept this small gift from Grandma as a wedding present. And don’t be mad at me because I didn’t ask your parents for money. I used my savings and decided to give you something you’d like. I hope you won’t be ashamed of me this time. Love, Grandma Donna.”
Jessica’s eyes welled up as she finished reading the letter. She cautiously opened the pendant, and when she looked closer, she noticed a childhood photo of her with her grandma cuddling. They looked sweet and happy. The woman also looked through all her childhood pics in the big old photo album.
Jessica found a pendant inside the chest | Photo: Pexels
Jessica couldn’t fight back the tears at this point. “I’m so sorry, grandma. I always hated you, but all you did was love me. I’m sorry!” She burst out crying.
Later that day, when everyone left after the funeral, she sat beside her grandmother’s grave, clutching the old scarf that she always wore.
“I’m sorry, grandma,” she sobbed, holding her gift. “That I was never a granddaughter to you. I hope you’re happy wherever you are. I know nothing I do now will change anything, but I just want you to know how much I adore you!”
What can we learn from this story?
- Act before it’s too late. Jessica realized her grandmother’s love for her, but it was too late by then.
- Learn to be kind and respectful. Unlike Jessica, who did nothing but disrespect her grandmother all her life.
If you enjoyed this story, you might like this one about a woman who follows the little boy who takes leftovers from her luxury restaurant every day and learns a shocking truth in the process.
My 16-Year-Old Son Went to Stay with His Grandmother for the Summer – One Day, I Got a Call from Her
When my 16-year-old son offered to spend the summer taking care of his disabled grandmother, I thought he’d finally turned a corner. But one night, a terrifying call from my mother shattered that hope.
“Please, come save me from him!” my mother’s voice whispered through the phone, barely a breath.
A scared elderly woman talking on her phone | Source: Midjourney
Her words were sharp with fear, a tone I’d never heard from her. My stomach knotted. Before I could respond, the line went dead.
I stared at my phone, disbelief mixing with shock. My strong, fiercely independent mother was scared. And I knew exactly who “him” was.
An angry woman | Source: Pexels
My son had always been a handful, but lately, he’d crossed new lines. At sixteen, he was testing every boundary he could find. Rebellious, headstrong, a walking storm of attitude and defiance.
I remembered him coming home from school, slinging his backpack down with a certain grin that I didn’t recognize. “I was thinking about going to Grandma’s this summer,” he’d said. “I mean, you’re always saying she could use more company. I could keep an eye on her.”
A smiling teenager | Source: Pexels
My first reaction was surprise and a little pride. Maybe he was turning over a new leaf, becoming responsible. But looking back now, as I sped down the darkening highway, his words nagged at me in a way they hadn’t before.
I blinked in surprise. “You… want to go stay with Grandma? You usually can’t wait to get out of there.”
A shocked woman | Source: Pexels
“I’ll help take care of her,” he said. “You could even let the caregiver go, Mom. Save some money, you know?”
The more I drove, the more pieces of our recent conversations slipped into place in my mind, forming a picture I didn’t like.
“People change,” he’d shrugged with a strange smile. Then he looked up at me with a half-smile. “I mean, I’m almost a man now, right?”
A smiling teenage boy with a phone | Source: Pexels
I brushed it off then, thinking maybe he was finally growing up. But now, that smile felt… off. Not warm or genuine, but like he was playing a part.
As I drove, I remembered other details, things I’d dismissed at the time. A week into his stay, I called, wanting to check on my mother directly. He’d answer, cheerful but too fast, like he was steering the call. “Hey, Mom! Grandma’s asleep. She said she’s too tired to talk tonight, but I’ll tell her you called.”
A concerned woman on her phone | Source: Freepik
Why didn’t I push harder?
My mind raced back to how it all began. It had been just the two of us since his father left when he was two. I’d tried to give him what he needed to stay grounded. But since he hit his teenage years, the small cracks had started widening.
An angry teenage boy | Source: Freepik
The only person who seemed to get through to him now and then was my mother. She had a way of disarming him, though even she admitted he was “testing her patience.”
I dialed my mother’s number again, willing her to pick up. My thumb tapped the screen anxiously, but still, nothing.
The sky darkened as the houses became sparse, her rural neighborhood just up ahead. With every mile, my mind replayed his too-smooth excuses, his charming act.
A woman on her phone in her car | Source: Freepik
As I pulled up to my mother’s house, a chill ran through me. I could hear music blasting from two blocks away. Her lawn, once so tidy, was now overgrown, weeds tangling around the porch steps. The shutters had peeling paint, and the lights were off, as though no one had been home in weeks.
I stepped out of the car, feeling disbelief twisting into a sick anger. Beer bottles and crushed soda cans littered the porch. I could even smell cigarette smoke drifting out through the open window.
A littered porch | Source: Midjourney
My hands shook as I reached for the door, pushing it open.
And there, right in front of me, was chaos.
Strangers filled the living room laughing, drinking, shouting over the music. Half of them looked old enough to be college kids, others barely looked out of high school. My heart twisted, a mixture of fury and heartache flooding through me.
A furious woman | Source: Pexels
“Where is he?” I whispered, scanning the crowd, disbelief giving way to a focused rage. I shouldered through people, calling his name. “Excuse me! Move!”
A girl sprawled on the couch glanced up at me, blinking lazily. “Hey, lady, chill out. We’re just having fun,” she slurred, waving a bottle in my direction.
“Where’s my mother?” I snapped, barely able to hold back the edge in my voice.
A shouting woman | Source: Pexels
The girl just shrugged, unconcerned. “Dunno. Haven’t seen any old lady here.”
Ignoring her, I continued through the packed room, shouting my son’s name over the blaring music. I looked from face to face, my heart pounding faster with every step. Every second that passed made the house feel more like a stranger’s, more like a place my mother would never allow, let alone live in.
Teenagers partying | Source: Pexels
“Mom!” I called, my voice desperate as I reached the end of the hall, near her bedroom door. It was closed, the handle faintly scratched, as though it’d been opened and closed a hundred times in the last hour alone.
I knocked hard, heart racing. “Mom? Are you in there? It’s me!”
A weak, trembling voice replied, barely audible over the noise. “I’m here. Please—just get me out.”
A woman knocking frantically into the closed door | Source: Midjourney
I felt a wave of relief and horror as I fumbled with the handle and threw the door open. There she was, sitting on the bed, her face pale and drawn, eyes rimmed with exhaustion. Her hair was mussed, and I could see dark circles under her eyes.
“Oh, Mom…” I crossed the room in a heartbeat, falling to my knees beside her and wrapping my arms around her.
An elderly woman covering her ears | Source: Freepik
Her hand, frail but steady, clutched mine. “He started with just a few friends,” she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper. “But when I told him to stop, he got angry. He… he said I was just getting in the way.” Her voice wavered. “He started locking me in here. Said I was… ruining his fun.”
A sickening wave of anger surged through me. I’d been blind, foolish enough to believe my son’s promise to “help out.” I took a shaky breath, stroking her hand. “I’m going to fix this, Mom. I swear.”
An elderly woman in her bedroom | Source: Freepik
She nodded, gripping my hand, her own fingers cold and trembling. “You have to.”
I walked back to the living room, my jaw clenched so tight it hurt. And there was my son, leaning against the wall, laughing with a group of older kids.
When he looked up and saw me, his face went pale.
“Mom? What… what are you doing here?”
A shocked teenage boy | Source: Freepik
“What am I doing here?” I echoed, my voice steady with a calm I didn’t feel. “What are you doing here? Look around! Look at what you’ve done to your grandmother’s home!”
He shrugged, trying to play it cool, but I saw his mask slipping. “It’s just a party. You don’t have to freak out.”
“Get everyone out of here. Now.” My voice was steel, and this time, it cut through the noise. The whole room seemed to freeze. “I’m calling the police if this house isn’t empty in the next two minutes.”
A furious woman | Source: Freepik
One by one, the partiers shuffled out, murmuring and stumbling toward the door. The house cleared out, leaving only broken furniture, empty bottles, and my son, who now stood alone in the wreckage he’d made.
When the last guest was gone, I turned to him. “I trusted you. Your grandmother trusted you. And this is how you repay her? This is what you thought ‘helping’ looked like?”
A woman confronting her son | Source: Midjourney
He shrugged, a defensive sneer twisting his face. “She didn’t need the space. You’re always on my case, Mom. I just wanted some freedom!”
“Freedom?” My voice shook with disbelief. “You’re going to learn what responsibility is.” I took a deep breath, feeling the weight of each word. “You’re going to a summer camp with strict rules, and I’m selling your electronics, everything valuable, to pay for the damage. You don’t get a single ‘freedom’ until you earn it.”
An angry woman in her living room | Source: Midjourney
“What?” His bravado faltered, fear flickering in his eyes. “You can’t be serious.”
“Oh, I am,” I said, voice colder than I’d ever heard it. “And if you don’t change, you’re out of the house when you turn eighteen. I’m done with excuses.”
The next day, I sent him off to camp. His protests, his anger all faded as the summer passed, and for the first time, he was forced to face the consequences.
A teenage boy in a camp | Source: Pexels
As I repaired my mother’s house that summer, I felt the pieces of our family begin to mend. Bit by bit, room by room, I cleared the broken glass, patched up the walls, and held on to hope that my son would come home a different person.
After that summer, I saw my son start to change. He grew quieter, steadier, spending evenings studying instead of disappearing with friends.
A boy doing his homework | Source: Pexels
Small acts like helping around the house, and apologizing without being prompted became routine. Each day, he seemed more aware, and more respectful, like he was finally becoming the man I’d hoped for.
Two years later, I watched him walk up my mother’s steps again, head bowed. He was about to graduate school with honors and enroll in a nice college. In his hand was a bouquet, his gaze sincere and soft in a way I’d never seen.
A young man with flowers | Source: Freepik
“I’m sorry, Grandma,” he said, his voice thick with regret. I held my breath, watching as the boy I’d fought to raise offered her a piece of his heart.
This work is inspired by real events and people, but it has been fictionalized for creative purposes. Names, characters, and details have been changed to protect privacy and enhance the narrative. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.
The author and publisher make no claims to the accuracy of events or the portrayal of characters and are not liable for any misinterpretation. This story is provided “as is,” and any opinions expressed are those of the characters and do not reflect the views of the author or publisher.
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