After Years of Leaving and Going back to My Cruel Dad, My Mom Showed up on My Doorstep Again — Story of the Day

My mom always left my dad, swearing it was for good, only to return after his apologies and gifts. It became a pattern I was used to, a cycle that never broke. But this time, when she showed up at my door with a suitcase, she had news that changed everything.

I sat across from my friend Sandy in my kitchen, enjoying a rare moment of free time together. Life got busy, and it felt like we never saw each other anymore.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

“It’s nice to finally catch up,” Sandy said with a smile.

“Yeah, it is,” I agreed, pouring her a glass of wine.

After a pause, she looked at me curiously. “Is your mom living with you now?”

“No, why would she?” Sandy’s eyebrows furrowed.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

“I thought she left your dad again?”

“Oh, you know how it goes with them. Every two years, same story. He messes up, she gets mad, packs her bags, and swears she’s done for good. Then he buys her something fancy, and suddenly all is forgiven. They act like they’re in love again, like nothing ever happened.” Sandy sighed.

“Have you tried talking some sense into her?”

“I did,” I said, feeling the old frustration return.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

“I told her she deserves better. But then she goes back to him, and she’d get mad at me, saying I wasn’t supporting her.”

Sandy frowned and took a sip of her wine. “I’m sorry, Amalia. That sounds hard.”

My eyes landed on the corner of the kitchen table, where my mom had left a note the last time she left my dad. I could still picture her then—standing in my doorway, suitcase in hand, her face full of hope.

“I’ve left him for good this time, Amalia,” she said with a determined smile.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

I wanted to believe her, but deep down, I doubted it. Still, a tiny hope stirred inside me, whispering that maybe this time would be different.

We went to a café nearby for breakfast, sitting across from each other. I took a deep breath, trying to steady my nerves, and finally said what I’d been too scared to say before.

“Mom, you know you can’t keep going back to him, right?” I asked, my voice steady.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

She looked down at her coffee, then back up at me with a weak smile. “Of course, I’m not planning to. I’ve made up my mind.”

I sighed and leaned closer. “He’s awful, Mom. He treated you terribly. He doesn’t change.”

“I know,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. I reached out and took her hand.

“I just want you to be happy. You deserve that, you know?”

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

She squeezed my hand, her eyes watering. “Thank you, dear. It means a lot.”

I thought maybe my words got through to her. Maybe this time would be different. But when I came back from work that evening, the house was quiet. I called for her, but no answer.

Instead, a note sat on the table: “Your father apologized and bought me a new car. I realized I overreacted and went back. XX Mom.” I crumpled the note, tossing it into the trash. How foolish I’d been to hope.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

Sandy’s words pulled me out of my thoughts. “You should understand your mom better than anyone,” she said. “You left Robert, and that was hard. But you did it.”

I shrugged. “Yeah, it was hard. But I knew I had to.” She lifted her glass, her eyes warm.

“Well, I think you’re strong as hell. Cheers to that.”

I laughed and raised my glass. “Cheers.”

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

The next morning, I woke up late. My alarm didn’t go off, or maybe I just slept through it. Either way, I was rushing around, trying to get dressed, find my keys, and grab my bag all at once.

My hair was a mess, and I could barely think straight. I could already tell it was going to be one of those days where nothing goes right. As I tried to slip on my shoes, I heard the doorbell. I glanced at the clock.

I didn’t have time for this. “Damn it,” I muttered, frustrated. I opened the door and froze. There stood my mom, holding a suitcase, her face serious.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

I didn’t mean to sound harsh, but the words slipped out. “What did Dad do this time?!”

She didn’t flinch. She didn’t look away. Her eyes stayed locked on mine, and she said, “He died.”

For a moment, everything around me just stopped. I couldn’t breathe or think. My mind went completely blank, like a switch had been turned off. I tried to say something, anything, but no words came out.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

After hearing the news, I called my boss and said I needed the day off. There wasn’t much I could explain, so I just told him there was a family emergency. My mom and I got in the car and drove back to my childhood home.

When we arrived, I walked into my old bedroom and felt a rush of memories. Everything was the same—the posters on the wall, the faded bedspread, even the little figurines on the shelf. It was like stepping back in time, and for a moment, I felt like I was a teenager again.

On the morning of the funeral, I woke up to loud music blasting through the house. I groaned, pulled the pillow over my head, but Mom just turned it up louder, filling every corner of the house.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

“Mom! Turn it off!” I shouted, my voice barely cutting through the blaring music.

“What?!” she yelled back from somewhere down the hall. “Hold on, I can’t hear you!”

A moment later, the music stopped, and I heard her footsteps. She appeared in my doorway, looking calm, like it was just a regular morning. “What were you saying?” she asked, tilting her head.

“Why is the music so loud?” I asked, trying to keep my voice steady. “It’s too early for this.”

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

She shrugged, a small smile on her face. “This song makes me happy,” she said, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

I stared at her. “You’re not supposed to feel happy today. It’s the funeral.”

She looked at me, still smiling. “Why not? You should feel happy every day, no matter what’s happening.”

I sighed, rubbing my temples. “Besides, this song is like 20 years old. Nobody listens to it anymore.”

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

She raised an eyebrow. “You used to love it,” she said. “I remember you dancing around your room, singing every word.”

“Yeah,” I replied, “and then I got sick of it, like everyone else.”

She paused for a moment. “I don’t know. When I love something, I love it forever,” she said softly, then turned and walked out. A few seconds later, the music started up again, just as loud.

After greeting everyone at the church, shaking hands, and hearing the same phrases—”I’m so sorry for your loss,” “He was a good man”—I felt drained. It was like I was on autopilot, just nodding and thanking people without really thinking.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

I needed a break, so I slipped away to a small, quiet room at the back of the church. I was hoping to be alone for a minute, but when I walked in, Mom was already there, sitting by the window. She looked up and smiled, her eyes tired but calm.

“I don’t like funerals either,” Mom said, staring out the window.

I just scoffed, feeling a bitter laugh rise in my throat. “Yeah, well, we’re stuck here.”

She turned back to me. “Did you prepare your speech?” she asked, her tone gentle.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

I shook my head. “I’m not saying anything. I don’t have anything good to say about him.”

Mom’s face softened, like she was trying to understand. “Why not? He was a good father and a wonderful husband.”

I stared at her, stunned. “You’ve got to be kidding me. Are we talking about the same person?”

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

She looked confused. “Why do you hate him so much?” she asked, almost like she truly didn’t understand. “I never got it.”

“Why? Do you really want to know?” I felt something snap inside, and the words just came pouring out. “When I was 13, you went on a business trip, and my friend stayed over. We heard noises from your bedroom. We thought someone was hurt, so we went to check…”

“…And there he was, in bed with Mrs. Brown, our neighbor. I just screamed and ran out of the house. And when I came back, he didn’t say a word to me. He pretended like it never happened, like I didn’t see it. That’s why I hated him. And I still hate him,” I said, my voice trembling.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

Mom’s eyes softened. “I know.”

“You don’t know how I feel!” I shouted, tears welling up.

“I mean, I know about the affairs,” she said, her voice calm.

“You knew?” I asked, shocked. “And you did nothing?”

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

“Of course I knew,” she said softly.

“Then I hate you too,” I said, my voice cold. I turned to leave, but her voice stopped me.

“I’m sorry, Amalia,” Mom said. “I’m sorry I wasn’t strong like you. I was scared to leave him. I didn’t know how to do it for good.”

“You think I wasn’t scared when I left Robert? I was terrified,” I said, my voice shaking a little. “But I did it because I knew I had to. And you know what? It was hard, but eventually, it felt… freeing.”

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

“I’m glad to hear that. I never liked Robert, you know. When you left him, I was so proud. You knew you deserved better. But it wasn’t the same for me. When I love something, I love it forever. And I loved your father.” I stared at her, confused.

“Even after he treated you that way?”

She nodded. “He wasn’t perfect. I never needed him to be. He had flaws, and some were really big ones. But he always came back.”

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

I frowned, trying to understand.

She sighed, her eyes meeting mine. “Honestly, I’m glad to hear you hate me. Because all this time, I thought you didn’t care. And between hate and indifference, I’d rather have your hate.”

I didn’t expect those words to hit me the way they did, but they did. For some reason, I found myself smiling a little. I glanced at the clock. “We need to go. People will be waiting.”

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

Mom gently placed her hand on my back. “You know, your father loved two things most in life: expensive liquor and making you laugh. Maybe you can mention that in your speech, but… skip the first part,” she said, a small smile tugging at her lips.

I couldn’t help but laugh, a real, honest laugh, and for a moment, the tension lifted. We left the small room together, side by side, and I felt something shift inside me.

I glanced at Mom and realized she wasn’t just my mom—she was a person, with her own fears, flaws, and regrets. I had always seen her as someone who should be stronger, someone who should have known better. But in that moment, I understood she was just trying her best, like I was.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

Tell us what you think about this story and share it with your friends. It might inspire them and brighten their day.

If you enjoyed this story, read this one: While helping her mother, Sarah, move into a new house, Natalie stumbles upon an old photograph hidden in a box. It shows a young Sarah holding a newborn baby with a distinctive birthmark on its cheek. But Natalie never had a birthmark. Confused and unsettled, she realizes there’s a secret her mother has been hiding.

This piece is inspired by stories from the everyday lives of our readers and written by a professional writer. Any resemblance to actual names or locations is purely coincidental. All images are for illustration purposes only. Share your story with us; maybe it will change someone’s life.

This 2000s Star Sparked Mixed Reactions This Year After Users Saw How Her Appearance Has Changed — Photos of Her Transformation

Over the years, the following award-winning musician has gone through a remarkable transformation, which has sparked conversations online. Take a look at her journey, as she reflects on how the media once perceived her, especially concerning body image.

A well-known singer from the 2000s continues to amaze fans, not just with her powerful vocals but also with her stunning physical appearance. Her latest performances have ignited a wave of online discussions, with opinions varying widely about her current look.

The Hollywood star, considered one of the most successful Canadian artists, first captured the public’s attention with her trip-hop-inspired debut album, “Whoa, Nelly!” (2000).

This album achieved both critical and commercial success, producing two singles that soared into the top 10 on the Billboard Hot 100: “I’m Like a Bird” and “Turn Off the Light.” The success of “I’m Like a Bird” even won her the Grammy Award for Best Female Pop Vocal Performance.

However, along with her success came a series of difficult experiences. In a recent interview, the songwriter opened up about her early years in the music industry, shedding light on the struggles she faced during that time.

One of the most striking memories she shared from that era was extensive airbrushing. “I have olive skin, and they’d kind of lighten my skin a lot in photos, and kind of take my hips down all the time — they would always cut off in editorials,” the celebrity candidly revealed.

The experience became the inspiration for her song “Powerless,” featured on her 2003 sophomore album, “Folklore.” In the song, the artist sings about the alterations made to her image, expressing lines like, “Paint my face in your magazines / Make it look whiter than it seems / Paint me over with your dreams / Shove away my ethnicity.”

Of Portuguese descent, the songwriter, who has recently unveiled her seventh album, “7,” admitted, “By my second album, I guess I was kind of angry about it.”

Despite the challenges she faced, she looks back on her early fame with gratitude, feeling fortunate to have been shielded from the darker side of the entertainment industry that affected some of her peers.

The singer credits her strong, matriarchal family and the solid support of her team for providing her with a sense of assertiveness and guidance, which helped her navigate the music business successfully.

At one point, Nelly Furtado once stepped away from the limelight to focus on raising her children. She is now a mother of three: two daughters, including 21-year-old Nevis Gahunia, and a son.

After the birth of her two younger children, just 14 months apart, Furtado discovered she was living with attention-deficit/hyperactivity disorder (ADHD).

While caring for her daughter, now 6, and son, 5, she recognized the symptoms in herself and was officially diagnosed. Furtado shares her two younger children, whose names remain private, with her ex, rapper Jerry (Gerard Damien Long).

The mother of three had lived with ADHD her entire life. However, it was the “chaos” of raising two young children close in age that ultimately led to her diagnosis.

She disclosed, “When I was attending college, [I was like] ‘Boing, boing, boing, boing.’ I’ve had it my whole life. But when I had my two youngest in close proximity, it made me very aware of my ADHD.”

Since her diagnosis, Furtado has become more mindful, often reflecting on how to stay grounded amidst daily distractions. Exercise, especially dancing, has been key to her routine. She finds that time in the dance studio helps keep her ADHD in check and brings her focus.

With the release of her new album, her first in seven years, the doting mom has returned to the spotlight. Her recent live performances have sparked conversations about her appearance, with some praising her beauty while others focused on her physique.

Meanwhile, one person defended Furtado’s physical appearance, expressing“So, she gained some weight. So, what! She still looks gorgeous. This obsession with weight is ridiculous.” “She looks better with the curves,” echoed another individual. More users from X (formerly known as Twitter) compared Furtado’s look from back in the day.

Nelly Furtado’s reemergence into the limelight has ignited conversations around her music and appearance, reflecting the multifaceted nature of fame. Despite the chatter, she remains focused on her journey, inspiring many with her resilience and growth as an artist.

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