I always thought I knew everything about my mom. At 65, she was the rock of our family, but all that changed the night I unknowingly hopped into the back seat of a taxi she was driving.
It was one of those moments that makes you question everything.
Seeing her behind the wheel, wearing a driver’s cap like she’d been doing it for years, threw me for a loop. I had no idea what was coming next, but I knew one thing for sure.
I. Needed. Answers.
A man sitting in a car | Source: Midjourney
Life was going well for me.
At 35, I had a stable job, good friends, and a comfortable apartment in the city. My mom, Ellen, lived nearby, and we talked regularly. Everything in my world felt predictable until that night.
It was a Tuesday, and my coworker Jake and I had just wrapped up dinner at a local diner. We’d both had a long day at work and were joking around as we waited outside for the taxi he’d called.
A man standing outdoors at night | Source: Midjourney
“Man, I can’t wait to crash on my couch,” Jake said, rubbing his neck. “Today was brutal.”
“No kidding,” I replied.
My car had been acting up for weeks, so I was grateful Jake had ordered the ride. The cold night air nipped at my face, and I was more focused on warming my hands in my pockets than paying attention to the taxi that pulled up to the curb.
A taxi sign | Source: Pexels
Jake opened the back door, and we slid in, still chuckling about our boss’s terrible attempt at a motivational speech that afternoon. The car smelled faintly of lavender, and I noticed a knitted cushion on the driver’s seat.
For some reason, it felt oddly familiar, but I didn’t think much about it.
Feeling tired, I leaned back and glanced at the rearview mirror. That’s when my eyes met the driver’s eyes, and I immediately recognized them.
The eyes staring back at me weren’t a stranger’s. They were my mom’s.
A woman adjusting the rear-view mirror | Source: Pexels
“Mom?” I blurted out, my voice louder than I intended.
Jake snapped his head toward me. “Wait… what? That’s your mom?”
I nodded, but my mind was a whirlwind of questions.
My mom? Driving a taxi? Since when?
Mom’s eyes darted between the road and the rearview mirror. After a few awkward seconds, she let out a nervous laugh.
“Well,” she began. “I guess the cat’s out of the bag.”
A woman driving a taxi | Source: Midjourney
The cat’s out of the bag? I thought.
“What the heck is going on, Mom? Why are you driving a taxi?” I blurted out.
Jake, ever the observant one, gave me a nudge.
“Hey, man,” he said. “If you need some privacy, I can hop out and catch another ride.”
I shook my head quickly. “No, it’s fine.”
Turning back to my mom, I asked again, more softly this time, “Mom… what’s going on?”
A man sitting in a taxi | Source: Midjourney
She sighed, gripping the steering wheel tightly. “It’s not what you think, Samuel. I wasn’t planning on you finding out like this.”
“Well, here we are,” I said, my voice rising again. “How long has this been going on? And why?”
Jake shifted uncomfortably next to me.
“Uh… I’ll just get out here,” he said, already opening the door. “Catch you later, Sam.”
“Yeah, sure,” I muttered. I was so distracted that I barely registered his departure.
A man looking at his friend | Source: Midjourney
When he was gone, I moved to the front passenger seat, staring at my mom in disbelief.
“Mom, seriously. You’ve never even owned a car, and now you’re driving a taxi? Start explaining.”
She glanced at me, her face tired but resolute. “Alright. You deserve to know. But Samuel… please don’t get mad.”
I took a deep breath, steadying my thoughts. “I’m not mad. I’m… confused. And worried. You’ve never even driven before, Mom! When did this start? And why?”
Mom started driving again, keeping her eyes on the road.
A person driving a car | Source: Pexels
“I’ve been learning to drive for a few months now,” she said.
“A few months?” I repeated. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Because I didn’t want you to worry,” she said.
I let out a humorless laugh. “Well, mission failed. I’m worried, Mom. Worrying is basically my full-time job now.”
She glanced at me. “Samuel, listen to me. It’s about Lily.”
I froze, my heart sinking. “Lily? What about her?”
A man in a taxi at night | Source: Midjourney
Lily is my niece, my sister Anna’s 10-year-old daughter. The brightest spark of joy in our family. Smart, curious, always asking a million questions about the world. But she’d been dealt a cruel hand in life.
A year ago, she was diagnosed with a rare terminal illness, and ever since, it has been like a dark cloud hanging over all of us.
“Mom… what about Lily?” I asked again.
“She told me something a few months ago,” Mom said, her voice thick with emotion. “She said she wanted to see the world before it was too late.”
A little girl | Source: Pexels
“What do you mean… see the world?”
“She wants to see cities, oceans, mountains. She wants to feel the sand under her feet and see the stars from the top of a mountain.” Mom’s voice broke slightly, and she took a shaky breath. “But Anna’s drowning in bills, and you… you’ve got your own life to manage. I couldn’t ask either of you for more.”
“So, you decided to drive a taxi?” I asked, the incredulity slipping back into my voice. “Mom, this isn’t safe. You’ve never done anything like this before!”
A worried man looking at his mother | Source: Midjourney
She shook her head. “I know. But what other choice did I have? Lily doesn’t have much time left. I had to do something.”
I leaned back in my seat, rubbing my hands over my face.
“Mom, you’re 65. Why not just tell me? We could’ve figured something out together.”
She shook her head. “You’ve worked so hard to get where you are. I didn’t want you to give up your savings or worry about this. This was something I needed to do.”
A woman driving a car | Source: Midjourney
I sighed.
“So, what’s the plan?” I asked. “You’re going to save up enough money and… what? Take Lily on a road trip?”
“Exactly,” Mom nodded. “A road trip. Just me, Anna, and Lily. We’d see the ocean, the Grand Canyon, the mountains. Wherever she wants to go.”
I shook my head, still trying to process everything. “And you were going to do all of this… alone?”
“I was going to try,” she said quietly. “For Lily.”
An older woman in a car | Source: Midjourney
I sat in silence for a moment, the weight of her words settling in. My mom, who had never driven a day in her life, was learning to drive at 65.
She was ready to do everything to make her granddaughter’s dream come true.
The next morning, I called Anna.
“Hey, we need to talk,” I told her.
A man talking on the phone | Source: Pexels
“What’s wrong?” she asked, concerned.
“It’s about Lily… and Mom.”
I explained everything, from the taxi driving to the road trip plan. There was a long silence on the other end of the line before Anna finally spoke, her voice trembling.
“She did all of this for Lily?”
A woman talking to her brother on the phone | Source: Pexels
“Yeah,” I said, swallowing the lump in my throat. “But we’re not letting her do it alone.”
By the end of that week, we had a plan in place.
We rented a small RV. It wasn’t fancy, but it had everything we needed for a road trip.
Mom would drive, but I’d be there to help navigate. Anna arranged her work schedule, and we told Lily we had a surprise for her.
When we sat Lily down to tell her, her eyes sparkled with excitement.
“A trip?” she asked. “Like, a real trip?”
A little girl smiling | Source: Pexels
“Yes, sweetheart,” Mom said, pulling her into a hug. “We’re going to see the ocean, the mountains, and everything you’ve ever wanted to see!”
“I get to see the ocean?” Lily asked with a smile. “Oh, wow!”
“Yes,” I said, smiling at her. “We’re going to see it all.”
The trip was everything we’d hoped for.
We watched Lily’s eyes widen in awe as she gazed out at the Grand Canyon, her laughter echoing across the vast landscape.
A shot of the Grand Canyon | Source: Pexels
We stood on a beach in California, her little feet sinking into the sand as the waves lapped at her ankles. She chased seagulls, built sandcastles, and marveled at the endless stretch of water before her.
One night, we found ourselves camping in the mountains, the sky above us filled with stars. Lily lay between Mom and me, her eyes scanning the constellations.
“Grandma,” she whispered, “I think this is my favorite night.”
Mom smiled, brushing a strand of hair from Lily’s face. “Mine too, my love.”
A woman smiling | Source: Midjourney
On our final night, we sat around a campfire. The flames crackled softly, and the scent of toasted marshmallows filled the air.
Lily hugged Mom tightly, her small arms wrapped around her neck.
“Thank you, Grandma,” she whispered. “This is the best Christmas ever.”
Mom’s eyes glistened with tears as she held her. “Anything for you, my love.”
When we returned home, things felt different. Lily’s condition began to worsen, and we all knew what was coming.
A hospital room | Source: Pexels
But she carried those precious memories of the ocean, the stars, and the best night of her life, and it made all the difference.
The day we said goodbye to her was the hardest of my life. But as heartbreaking as it was, I knew one thing for certain. My mom was a hero.
Sometimes, heroes don’t wear capes. They don’t need to. They just need a little courage, a lot of love, and, in my mom’s case, a taxi driver’s license.
If you enjoyed reading this story, here’s another one you might like: Claire thought her whirlwind romance was the start of her happily ever after—until an overheard conversation between her mother and her husband, James. Betrayed by the two people she trusted most, Claire embarks on a journey to uncover their motives and reclaim her life.
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.
I Met a Fortuneteller After My Wifes Funeral, The Next Day, Her Prediction Came True
The funeral was unbearable. Our daughters, Sophie and Emma, only four and five years old, kept asking, “Where’s Mommy?” I had no idea how to answer. How could I explain something I didn’t understand myself? Thankfully, Elizabeth’s parents and sister were there to help handle the arrangements.
After the service, as I walked to my car in a daze, I felt someone watching me. At first, I thought it was just my grief playing tricks on me, but then I saw her—an old woman standing near the cemetery gates.
She looked ancient, her face etched with deep lines, her sharp eyes piercing through me as if she could see straight into my soul.
“Excuse me,” she called softly.
I hesitated but didn’t respond. I was too drained for conversation, especially with a stranger.
“I know your fate,” she said, her voice serious.
I frowned. “What?”
“Cross my palm with silver, and I’ll reveal the joy and sorrow that lie ahead,” she continued, holding out her hand.
I stared at her, bewildered. A fortune-teller? At a funeral? I shook my head, muttering, “I’m not interested,” and started to walk away.
But her next words stopped me cold. “Elizabeth won’t rest until justice is served.”
I turned back sharply. “What did you say?”
“Twenty dollars,” she said, beckoning with her bony fingers. “That’s all.”
Under normal circumstances, I would’ve dismissed her. But in my grief-stricken state, I was numb to everything. Twenty dollars seemed insignificant in the grand scheme of things. I handed her the crumpled bill.
Her hand felt icy as she grabbed mine, her grip surprisingly firm. She didn’t take her eyes off me, and for a moment, I felt exposed, as though she could see all the pain I was carrying.
“Today, you’ve lost someone dear,” she whispered.
“Yeah, no kidding,” I said bitterly. “We’re at a cemetery.”
She didn’t flinch. “Your wife’s death was no accident.”
A chill ran down my spine. “What are you talking about?”
“There’s more to her death than you know. Tomorrow, the truth will begin to reveal itself.”
I felt my mouth go dry. “What truth?”
She smiled slowly, an unsettling grin. “By this time tomorrow, you’ll see.”
Before I could ask anything else, she turned and disappeared into the mist, vanishing as if she had never been there. I stood frozen, torn between disbelief and a strange sense of foreboding.
That night, I couldn’t sleep. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw Elizabeth—her smile, her laugh, the way she kissed our daughters goodnight. But the fortuneteller’s cryptic words haunted me: “Your wife’s death was no accident.” Was there any truth to it? Could the crash have been something more sinister?
Unable to rest, I got up and sifted through Elizabeth’s things, desperate to feel close to her. Among her belongings, I found something odd—receipts from a car rental service. We had two cars. Why would she need a rental?
I stared at the receipts, my heart racing. The fortuneteller’s words echoed in my mind. “There’s more to her death than you know.”
The next morning, I couldn’t shake the feeling that something was terribly wrong. I called Elizabeth’s best friend, Sarah, who worked at the garage where our cars were serviced. Maybe she could help me make sense of it all.
“Hey, Sarah,” I said, trying to keep my voice steady. “Did Elizabeth mention anything to you about renting a car?”
There was a brief pause before she answered. “Actually, yes. She rented a car when both of your cars were in the shop. It was for a surprise trip to the beach, but she returned it the day before… well, you know.”
“But why didn’t she tell me?” I muttered to myself.
“She wanted it to be a surprise,” Sarah replied. “She even asked her sister Karen to return the car for her after the trip.”
A wave of unease washed over me. Karen? Why would she return the car, and why hadn’t I known about it?
Determined to get answers, I drove to the rental company. When I explained the situation, the manager pulled up the records. “The car was returned without visible damage. We accepted it as normal, but… something seems off. Only a few miles were added to the odometer.”
I left the office with more questions than answers. Why had Karen returned the car? What was she hiding? I decided to contact the police, as the suspicion that Elizabeth’s death wasn’t an accident gnawed at me.
I explained everything to the detective—the car rental, the fortuneteller, my growing doubts. He listened carefully and assured me they’d investigate. “Initially, we ruled it a tragic accident caused by brake failure,” he said. “But now, with what you’ve shared, we’ll take a closer look.”
The days that followed were a blur. Then, the police found something shocking—evidence that someone had tampered with the brakes. My stomach churned as the horrifying truth began to surface.
It wasn’t long before the investigation revealed even more. Karen had taken out a life insurance policy on Elizabeth just months before the accident. She had forged Elizabeth’s signature and made herself the sole beneficiary.
I was sickened. Elizabeth’s death hadn’t been an accident—it was murder. And the person behind it was her own sister.
When Karen was arrested, I couldn’t even look at her. The woman who had comforted me in my grief had been the one to cause it all, driven by greed.
During interrogation, she confessed to tampering with the car’s brakes, hoping to collect the insurance money. The betrayal was devastating.
Karen was sentenced to life in prison. It didn’t bring Elizabeth back, but at least I knew she would never harm anyone again. The fortuneteller had been right—Elizabeth couldn’t rest until justice was served.
A few weeks later, I returned to the cemetery. As I stood by Elizabeth’s grave, I whispered, “You can rest now.”
Just as I was about to leave, a butterfly landed on her headstone. I knew it was Elizabeth, finally at peace.
Though I never saw the fortuneteller again, her words had led me to the truth. As painful as it was, that truth was worth every penny of the twenty dollars I had given her.
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