I Became a Burden to My Father after I Lost the Ability to Walk – Story of the Day
I was paralyzed and trapped in a wheelchair in an accident, and my father refused to be burdened with me. But then he gets taught an important lesson.
I was 19 when I was run over by a car on my way to work. For me, it was the end of the world: a screech of tires, darkness, and pain. And when I woke up, I heard the voices say I’d never walk again.
I kept asking for my father, but he only showed up three days later, looking the worse for the wear and I knew he’d been on a bender while I’d lain there fighting for my life.
She was injured in a horrible accident | Source: Shutterstock.com
My mother died when I was 12, a victim of breast cancer. I remember her as a sweet, weary woman, always cringing from my father’s cruel words, working to keep food on the table while he drank his paycheck away.
As soon as I turned 14, he ordered me to find a part-time job to help with the bills, and when I was 16, I dropped out of school and started working full time to support myself — and him.
But when my father finally arrived at the hospital to visit me, there was neither compassion nor gratitude in his eyes. The doctor explained that although my spine was not severed there had been severe bruising and compression.
I might — by a long shot — recover my ability to walk, but most likely, I would be in a wheelchair for the rest of my life. And that was when my father walked away. He said to the doctor, “She’s over 18, isn’t she? She’s an adult, right? So she’s not my responsibility anymore. You take her.”
My father was an alcoholic | Source: Unsplash
I remember my doctor’s horrified expression and my father’s gaze sweeping over my limp legs. “Useless! Useless like your mother!”
Those were the last words I’d hear from him for the next six years. A little while later I was transferred to a recovery center where I was lucky enough to be assigned to a therapist named Carol Hanson.
Family is built on love, not a biological bond, or shared DNA.
She was an older, motherly woman who immediately took me under her wing. Carol was as loving as she was demanding, and she was very demanding. Over the next year, she pushed me towards a recovery I’d never dreamed possible.
The day I stood on my own two feet and took my first step, I cried like a baby, and so did Carol. It was only the beginning, and the next few months I worked even harder, but finally was pronounced healthy.
I woke to discover I was paralyzed | Source: Unsplash
It was a bittersweet moment for me. I was healed from my injury and I was walking again, but I was terrified. I had nowhere to go, no family. I was all alone in the world.
Carol walked in and found me crying. She sat beside me on the bed and put her arms around me. “Jenny,” she said to me, “it’s all right to be scared. You’re starting your life again.”
“I have no one, and nowhere to go,” I whispered, remembering other patients leaving surrounded by loving family, “I’m alone.”
“No you’re not,” Carol said firmly, “I’ve been meaning to talk to you about that. Would you like to move in with me? Just until you get your life together again…”
I was stuck in a wheelchair | Source: Unsplash
So I did, and it was lovely. Carol and I got on beautifully, and she gave me my own room, a pretty room, the prettiest I’d ever seen. “It was my daughter’s,” Carol explained with tears in her eyes. “I lost her like you lost your mother.”
I started googling for jobs the next day on Carol’s computer, but when I came down to breakfast there were some informative flyers on the table from the local high school announcing night classes for adults wanting to complete their secondary education.
“I think,” said Carol firmly, “that you need to go back to school so you can go back to college.”
My mouth dropped open. “College? I can’t afford college!” I gasped. “Carol, I don’t have a cent to my name and no way to support myself if I don’t get a job, and quickly.”
The physiotherapist helped me heal | Source: Pexels
Carol shook her head: “No, Jenny, you can’t afford NOT to go to college. Listen, I will lend you the money, and when you graduate, you pay me back — just like a student loan with a bank.”
Anyway, she talked me into it, and I quickly completed the high school certification I needed and applied to the local college. I’ll admit Carol’s example inspired me to become a nurse, and four years later, I graduated summa cum laude.
I started working at a local hospital and ended up specializing in neo-natal care. One day, a TV crew came in to do a news story on a set of identical triplets and ended up interviewing me.
For a while, I was a bit of a celebrity, but the attention brought me an unwanted visitor. The doorbell rang and when I opened it, I was stunned to see my father standing there.
I became a nurse | Source: Pixabay
He looked terrible, like a bum, and he reeked of alcohol and sweat. “Jenny, my sweet baby girl!” he cried, reaching out his hands. “I’ve finally found you again.”
“Found me again?” I asked sharply, “You abandoned me in the hospital because I was useless, remember, like my mother?”
He squeezed out a few tears. “Oh my baby,” he sobbed. “Forgive me, I was frightened and in shock… You won’t turn your dad away now, would you? I haven’t been well…”
“You look fine to me,” I told him coldly, but my trained eye had already noted the yellow tinge to his skin and eyes. He had some kind of liver disorder, probably due to his drinking.
An unexpected visitor | Source: Pixabay
He shuffled forward. “I’m sick, Jenny, daddy really needs you…And…” he licked his lips thirstily. “And I’m broke, baby, no money for food…You’re not going to let your daddy go hungry, are you?”
“Like you left me to my fate? Helpless in a wheelchair? Guess what ‘DADDY,’ I am. Get out.” I slammed the door in his face and walked back into the lounge.
Carol looked up at me and smiled. “Who was that, Jenny?”
“Oh, just some man selling something!” I went to the sofa, sat down beside Carol, and hugged her fiercely. Carol hugged me back.
Carol adopted me | Source: Pexels
“Jenny,” she said, “there’s something I’ve been meaning to talk to you about. Would you allow me to adopt you? Become your mother? Because in my heart you already are my daughter.”
I started crying and I just couldn’t stop. I had been cursed with a terrible childhood, and now as an adult, I had been lucky enough to find a loving home and a parent who cherished me.
What can we learn from this story?
1. Family is built on love, not a biological bond, or shared DNA.
2. What you give is what you get, as Jenny’s father discovered.
Share this story with your friends. It might brighten their day and inspire them.
If you enjoyed this story, you might like this one about a beautiful socialite who humiliates an old friend and ends up regretting it.
This account is inspired by our reader’s story but written by a professional writer. All names have been changed to protect identities and ensure privacy. Share your story with us, maybe it will change someone’s life.
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I Returned from a Business Trip and Discovered My Son’s Sketch Featuring His ‘New Mommy’ – The Woman Depicted Was Familiar from the Cafe
Let me share how a simple drawing turned my world upside down. I’m Harper, and it all started when I stumbled upon a picture my son drew, featuring himself and someone I didn’t recognize. What followed was a series of events that changed my life forever.
I’ve never been good at being away from my family. Working one week a month in a different city was supposed to be a great career move, but I find myself missing my husband Shawn and my son Marcus more than I ever thought possible.
Every time I step off that plane and see their smiling faces waiting for me, it feels like coming home after a long, exhausting journey. This time was no different.
I returned home late Friday night and was welcomed with hugs and kisses. Shawn had made my favorite lasagna, and Marcus had a new drawing to show me. My heart swelled with love and contentment. Little did I know, that was about to change.
Saturday morning, I decided to do some cleaning. With a cup of coffee in one hand and my hair tied up in a messy bun, I made my way to Marcus’ room.
It was a typical eight-year-old’s room: toys scattered everywhere, crayons on the floor, and stacks of papers with his various drawings. I started picking up and smiling at the doodles of dinosaurs, rockets, and family portraits. Then I saw it.
A drawing titled “Me and my new Mommy.” My heart stopped. NEW MOMMY? My hands shook as I stared at the picture. It was Marcus, smiling brightly, holding hands with a woman who was definitely not me. She had blonde hair and wore big, red earrings.
“No way… Shawn wouldn’t… would he?” I muttered to myself, feeling my eyes sting with tears. I slumped onto Marcus’ bed, clutching the picture. The thought of Shawn cheating on me and introducing our son to another woman felt like a punch to the gut.
I was about to spiral into a full-blown panic when I noticed something else in the picture. There, in Marcus’ innocent handwriting, was the name of our favorite family cafe: “At Jack’s.”
I had to know the truth. There was no way I could sit on this information. I wiped my tears and took a deep breath. I needed a plan.
“Hey Shawn,” I called out, trying to keep my voice steady as I walked into the living room where he was reading. “How about we go out for brunch tomorrow? Maybe At Jack’s?”
Shawn looked up from his book, a smile spreading across his face. “Sounds great, Harper. It’s been a while since we went there together.”
The next day, we headed to the cafe. Marcus was excited, chattering about pancakes and syrup. On the other hand, I felt like I was walking towards my doom. My mind raced with thoughts of confronting this mysterious “new mommy” and what it would mean for our family.
We arrived at the cafe, and I scanned the room, my heart pounding. We sat at our usual table, and I tried to act normal, though my mind was anything but. I kept glancing around, hoping I was wrong. And then, I saw her.
The woman from Marcus’ drawing. She had the same blonde hair and those distinctive red earrings. She was a waitress, carrying a tray of coffee cups, and she noticed us almost immediately. My stomach twisted into knots. She walked over to our table, a warm smile on her face.
“Good morning! What can I get for you folks today?” she asked cheerily.
I took a deep breath and looked at Marcus, who was eagerly flipping through the menu. “Honey, is that your ‘new mommy?’” I asked, my voice trembling slightly.
Marcus looked up, his eyes wide. “Yes, that’s Jessica!”
Shawn’s face turned crimson. “How did you…”
Jessica smiled even broader, kneeling to Marcus’ level. “Tell her, Marcus. She needs to know what you feel.”
“What do you mean?” Shawn asked, looking genuinely confused.
“Oh, stop, as if you don’t know,” I snapped, pulling out the picture from my purse. “About this.”
Shawn looked bewildered as I handed him the drawing. “It’s Marcus’.”
He took the picture, his brow furrowing. “Again, please. What’s happening?”
I felt a wave of frustration and hurt wash over me. “I found this yesterday while cleaning Marcus’ room. I saw the name of this cafe and had to know what was going on. Marcus called her his ‘new mommy.’”
“But it’s nonsense,” Shawn said, shaking his head. He turned to Marcus, trying to keep his voice calm. “Marcus, buddy, tell your mom.”
Marcus looked up at me, his big brown eyes filled with a mixture of confusion and honesty. He pointed to Jessica, the waitress. “I wish she were my mommy.”
My heart sank. “But why, honey?”
Marcus glanced at Jessica, who gave him an encouraging nod. “You’re missing all the time. But Jessica is so kind to me. She brings me pancakes with funny faces on them. She likes my drawings.”
Jessica knelt beside Marcus, her face soft and understanding. “He showed me this picture. What did I tell you, Marcus?”
“To speak to Mom and tell her what I feel,” Marcus replied, his voice small but sincere.
At that moment, I couldn’t hold back my tears any longer. They streamed down my face as I realized how much my little boy needed me. He needed his mom, not just physically, but emotionally. I was always gone, always working, and he found comfort in someone else because I wasn’t there.
I knelt and pulled Marcus into a tight hug, feeling his small arms wrap around me. “I’m so sorry, baby. I didn’t know you felt this way. I promise I’ll do better.”
Shawn put a hand on my shoulder, his voice softening. “Harper, you’re a great mom. We just need to figure out a way to make this work.”
I nodded, still holding Marcus close. “I’ll talk to my boss. I’ll quit these trips if I have to. You’re more important than my job, Marcus. I promise I’ll be here for you.”
Jessica stood up, giving us some space. “I’m sorry if I overstepped. I just wanted Marcus to feel happy and safe while he was here.”
I wiped my tears and managed a small smile. “Thank you, Jessica. You’ve been really kind to him. I appreciate it.”
As we finished our brunch, the tension slowly melted away. We talked and laughed, and I felt a renewed sense of purpose. I needed to be there for my family, no matter what.
When we got home, I immediately called my boss. It wasn’t an easy conversation, but I explained that I needed to stop the business trips. My boss was surprisingly understanding, and we worked out a new arrangement that allowed me to stay home more.
That evening, as I tucked Marcus into bed, he looked up at me with a sleepy smile. “Are you really going to be home more, Mommy?”
I kissed his forehead, my heart swelling with love. “Yes, sweetheart. I’m going to be here with you every day. No more long trips.”
He hugged me tightly. “I love you, Mommy.”
“I love you too, Marcus. More than anything in the world.”
Shawn joined us, sitting on the edge of the bed and wrapping his arms around both of us. “We’re a team, remember? We’ll figure everything out together.”
As I lay in bed that night, Shawn’s arms around me, I felt a deep sense of peace. Our family was stronger than ever, and I knew we could face anything as long as we were together. The drawing that had once filled me with fear now reminded me of the importance of being present.
And from that day on, I made a promise to myself to always put my family first. Because no job, no matter how important, could ever compare to the love we shared.
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