When I Had A Health Update, I Didn’t Tell My Daughter Or Her Husband That I’d Quietly Sold My Company For 8 Million Dollars.

He was telling me this was my fault. That if I was on the street, it was because I had been irresponsible. The son whose $200,000 education I paid for was giving me lessons on financial management while kicking me out of his house.

The door closed. This time I didn’t hear the deadbolt because Michael had already disappeared inside his house before I even finished walking down the porch steps. He didn’t even stay to make sure I got away safely.

He simply closed it and left. I stood under the yellowish light of the garden lamp. The $50 were crumpled in my hand.

I looked at them as if they were poison. This dirty paper was what my relationship with my son was worth. $50.

Less than what he probably spent on any random dinner. I put the money in my pocket. I would use it later.

Not for me. But to remind myself that this had happened. That this was real.

That my two oldest children had rejected me on the same day without even blinking. Two doors closed. Two children lost.

I had one left. Daniel. My youngest son.

The one who chose to be a teacher when everyone told him it was a waste of talent. The one who married Sarah, a girl from a humble family who worked cleaning offices when they met. The one the whole family looked at with pity mixed with disdain.

I have to confess something that shames me. I had also looked down on them. Not openly.

But inside. When Daniel introduced me to Sarah, I expected more. I expected a girl from a good family.

I expected useful connections. I expected someone who would elevate my son’s status, not someone who would keep him in economic mediocrity. At family gatherings, Jessica and Michael made hurtful comments.

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