I Looked After My Elderly Neighbor, but Her Son Blamed Me for Not Doing Enough – The Fallout Was Harsh

Debbie, living in a quiet neighborhood, becomes close to her elderly neighbor, Mrs. Jenkins, and begins to care for her. But when Deb’s mother has to undergo surgery, she has no option but to go home and care for her mother… only for her to receive a horrible phone call from Steve, Mrs. Jenkins’ son, accusing her of not doing enough.

Look, I didn’t want revenge on anybody, especially not for just being kind to an elderly neighbor.

I live in a quiet neighborhood, and my next-door neighbor, Mrs. Jenkins, is an 82-year-old widow. She’s frail, lonely, and honestly, sad. It’s like she’s been forgotten by her own family. Her only son, Steve, lives just 20 minutes away but rarely visits.

Whenever I saw her on the porch, she seemed so lost, staring off into the distance. My heart went out to her, so I started helping where I could.

For over a year, I’ve been running small errands. Groceries, appointments, clearing her driveway of leaves in the fall and snow in the winter.

“I don’t know what I’d do without you, Debbie,” she said to me one morning after I dropped off her groceries, including some freshly baked bread for her breakfast.

“I’m here for anything you need, Marlene,” I said.

Honestly, it wasn’t much, but I felt good knowing that I was helping. Especially since her real family was so absent.

“Steve?” she said one day when I asked about him. “That kid means everything to me, but I know I don’t mean as much to my son. It’s okay. You’re here.”

She would always smile like I was her favorite person.

This man, who barely knew his mother’s daily life, had the audacity to accuse me of not doing enough.
But things took a dark turn when I had to leave town for a few weeks. I couldn’t help it, my mother was in the hospital after being diagnosed with fibroids and cysts that needed to be removed.

I had to be there with her. There was no way about it.

“I’m coming, Mom,” I said. “Don’t you worry about a thing.”

“But, Deb,” my mother whined. “I don’t want to disturb your routine. Dad’s here, I’ll be fine with him.”

“Mom, I work from home. I can work from anywhere,” I said sternly. “And anyway, Dad’s idea of taking care of someone is making chicken noodle soup. That’s pretty much it. You’re going for invasive surgery. You need me.”

Before I left, I stocked Mrs. Jenkins’ house with groceries, made sure that she had everything she needed, and asked our neighbor Karen to check in on her from time to time.

“I’ll be back as soon as I can, Marlene,” I said. “Don’t you worry about a thing. And I’ve asked little Josh to come over and check your mail. He knows that if there’s anything in your mailbox, he has to bring it right to you.”

“Thank you, darling,” she said. “You’re too good to me.”

I thought I’d covered all my bases.

Ten days into my stay with my parents, my phone rang while I was cooking dinner. I didn’t recognize the number, but I picked up anyway.

“Debbie?” the voice snapped when I answered. “Are you the neighbor who’s supposed to be taking care of my mom?”

It was Steve. Mrs. Jenkins’ son. The man who barely showed up for his own mother.

For a second, I got nervous, hoping that nothing had happened to her.

“I just got a call from my mother,” he continued, not even stopping for me to speak. “She ran out of milk. And you’re out of town? Why didn’t you make sure she had enough before you left?”

I was absolutely floored. This man, who barely knew his mother’s daily life, had the audacity to accuse me of not doing enough.

Me?

“Steve,” I said, trying to remain calm. “I’m out of town because my mom is in the hospital. This is where I need to be. I stocked your mom up before I left. And I spoke to Karen, our neighbor, to check on her.”

Instead of apologizing or offering to help like any normal person, he shot back.

“Well, that’s just not good enough, Debbie. If you’re going to take care of my mother, then you need to do it right! I can’t be running around getting her things whenever you drop the ball.”

I almost screamed. The audacity of this man was astounding.

How could he accuse me of dropping the ball when I’d been doing everything for her? Especially while he sat back and did nothing!

I took a deep breath.

“Steve, she’s your mother. You can’t expect me to do everything for her while you’re right there, and do nothing! Maybe you should help her out for once.”

His response was just sad.

“You’re pathetic,” he said. “You don’t even do that much for her.”

Before I could retaliate, I just cut the call. I didn’t want to say anything worse, and I also didn’t want to risk it getting back to Marlene and upsetting her.

Later, as I sat with my mom in her hospital room, I couldn’t stop replaying that conversation. By the time I got home, I knew exactly what I needed to do.

“Go home, honey,” my mother said when I told her about Steve’s phone call. “I’m doing just fine, and my progress is great. The doctor is really happy with me. I told you, Dad and I will be fine!”

I really didn’t want to leave, but I missed my own home. And I missed working from my own space, too. So, I left a few days later.

When I got back, the first thing I did was check on Mrs. Jenkins. Thankfully, she was fine. It turns out that Karen had taken care of the milk situation, and Mrs. Jenkins had no idea about the chaos Steve had stirred up.

“What? Really? He said that?” she exclaimed, shocked.

Steve had to step up. He was not happy about it. Not at all.

As glad as I was that Steve hadn’t fed her any stories about me, I wasn’t going to allow him to get away with this.

The next day, I gently told Mrs. Jenkins that I wouldn’t be able to help her as much anymore.

“I have other commitments, Marlene,” I said sadly. “I have to check on my mother more often, too. She’s going to need me for the next few weeks.”

She looked disappointed, but she reassured me that she understood.

A few weeks went by, and Steve had no choice but to step up. Naturally, he wasn’t happy about it. Sometimes, as I worked from my living room, I could see him showing up to his mother’s house. He always looked irritated, like running an errand for his mother was the biggest burden anyone could have placed on him.

When I did visit Mrs. Jenkins next, she smiled and told me that she was relying on Steve more.

“I call him for everything,” she said. “Milk, teabags, and even help with the gutters.”

One afternoon, Mrs. Jenkins asked me to help her sort through some old papers. That’s when we stumbled upon her will.

Naturally, Steve was listed as the sole beneficiary.

“It’s a shame that Steve cannot spend more time with you,” I said casually. “You know, with work and whatnot.”

“I know, dear,” Mrs. Jenkins sighed. “But he’s been like that. Sometimes I think he only sticks around for what I’ll leave him.”

That was all the confirmation I needed.

“You know, Marlene,” I said. “You don’t have to leave everything to Steve. It might be nice to donate some to charity or leave something for the people who have always been there for you. That’s a sweet gesture. Think about it.”

“You’re right, Debbie,” she said. “I’ll think about it.”

A week later, Mrs. Jenkins updated her will. Steve still got his share, but she also included several charities to get vast portions of her estate. She left a little something for me, too, though I didn’t ask for it.

It wasn’t about the money. It was about showing Steve that neglect and greed have consequences.

When Steve found out, he stormed to my house, knocking furiously on my door.

“You convinced my mother to give away my inheritance? You manipulative little…”

I cut him off before he could finish his sentence.

“I didn’t convince her of anything. Maybe if you spent more time with her, you’d know what she really wanted.”

Steve spluttered, his face turning red. He shouted a few more insults and stormed off, but I could see it in his eyes.

He knew that he had lost.

Now, the lovely Mrs. Jenkins is happier than ever, and I’m taking her to the ballet later this week. Steve is sulking, likely regretting all the time he wasted.

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And as for me? I’m happy knowing that Mrs. Jenkins isn’t being taken advantage of by Steve.

Sometimes, the best revenge is just letting someone realize their own failure.

What would you have done?

My Son Disappeared When He Was 15 – 10 Years Later, I Found Out the Shocking Truth

My Son Disappeared When He Was 15 – 10 Years Later, I Found Out the Shocking Truth

Julia thought that by marrying her late husband’s brother Mike, she was giving her son a father figure. However, it took her ten years, her son’s disappearance, and a glasses case to learn the truth.

As the scripture says, “Seek and ye shall find.” I learned the meaning of this phrase the hard way. I’ve always thought the darkness after losing my husband was the worst to come, but alas… Let’s start my story from the very beginning.

The first time my little happy life was shaken was when my husband of 13 years, Tom, was diagnosed with cancer. Despite our best efforts, the prognosis remained bleak, and he left us within two months. The pain was soul-crushing.

Crying woman hugging man | Source: Getty Images

Our son Robert remained my only ray of sunshine until his uncle, Tom’s brother Mike, came into the picture. I suspected he had had feelings for me since high school, but I had chosen Tom and never looked back. Now, our grief united us once again.

I didn’t love him, no. But I thought Rob would benefit from a father figure, and frankly, our house could use a strong helping hand. And so, I decided to marry him.

Couple getting married in church | Source: Getty Images

At first, things seemed to look positive for us. I still missed Tom, but drowned my grief in work and found myself drifting away from my son. Fortunately, I thought, Mike had my back and gave Rob the upbringing he deserved. After all, every day I came home to countless stories of them hiking, attending theme parks, or simply playing catch. Rob even grew to call Mike his dad. For two years, I blindly believed we could overcome the void Tom left in our hearts and become a happy family. Boy, was I wrong.

Playful father and son playing while exercising at beach against sky | Source: Getty Images

Everything came crashing down once again when Rob left. That day, the home was unusually silent when I returned from work. Mike sat me down and, with tears in his eyes, explained that he found Rob’s note on the fridge:

Dear Mom and Dad,

I’ve decided to leave because I thought it would be better for everyone if I wasn’t around to bring up more bad memories and sorrow. Please understand that this isn’t because of anything you did, but a decision I felt I needed to make for the sake of peace at home. I promise to take care of myself and hope you can find it in your hearts to forgive me someday. Remember that I love you both, and this is the hardest choice I’ve ever had to make.

Take care, rob

Young woman got a bad letter uvolnenii | Source: Getty Images

The next ten years blurred into a never-ending search. The police didn’t bother looking for a runaway teen too hard. On his 18th birthday, they called us and said, “Let’s just let him go. He doesn’t want to be found anyway.” Oh, but I never stopped looking. I searched crowds in our town, held vigil, and even kept a lit candle on our windowsill. I knew this irritated Mike, who desperately tried to get me to move on after all these years. And on the tenth anniversary of Rob’s disappearance, I finally gave in.

After exploring various options for starting anew, we purchased a stunning colonial property two states away from our old home and left the latter to my sister, Schuyler. I couldn’t fathom someone outside our family owning the house. Having moved so far, we slowly disconnected from my side of the family. Imagine my surprise when, one day, someone very familiar burst through my door.

Colonial house on a Spring day | Source: Getty Images

That evening, I was packing my husband’s suitcase for a business trip. Suddenly, the door flung open. When I raised my eyes, I dropped the neatly ironed shirts I was holding. The person on the doorstep was my sister. But before I could greet her, she rushed to the suitcase, screaming, “Open his glasses case! He’s the one who hid Rob from you!”

I watched in a stupor as she frantically rummaged through my husband’s belongings, her hands finally clutching the familiar glasses case. However, I was in for a surprise when she opened it. She revealed… a phone. “Look,” Schuyler said before opening the call log and handing the phone to me.

Senior Man on Telephone | Source: Getty Images

I lowered my eyes, feeling conflicted, and my heart skipped a beat. The log was filled with dozens of calls to Robert. Every month, my husband took this burner phone and called up my son to…

“He told him you two would be better off without him,” Schuyler explained.

Sad and bored child at home couch feeling frustrated | Source: Getty Images

Sad and bored child at home couch feeling frustrated | Source: Getty Images

Turns out, I’ve been living a lie all these years. Every hike, every theme park trip, Mike used to show Rob how much of his life I missed. When I became distanced enough, he started on the second part of his plan, persuading Robert to leave us for the sake of our family. “Look, how much mom has to work to feed you,” he said. “Wouldn’t it be nice if she spent that money on herself? Wouldn’t you like to release her of the burden that you are?” He suggested Rob stay with his aunt, and my poor kid complied, thinking I had no room for him in my life.

Family at home | Source: Getty Images

Family at home | Source: Getty Images

How did it all come to light, you might ask? Well, my sweet boy decided to get married this year and sent us wedding invitations, which my sister received. Of course, she called to congratulate him, and this is when Rob spoke about the rift between us. I’m certain anyone but my sister would believe him. However, she knew everything about my struggles in the past ten years, so when Rob confessed to her about the burner phone, she put two and two together quickly. Hopping the plane took her no time, and here she was, uncovering a decade of terrible family secrets.

Side view of beautiful young woman at mailbox | Source: Getty Images

Side view of beautiful young woman at mailbox | Source: Getty Images

I cried during the entire call with my son. His raspy teenage voice had become deep and warm, but I recognized the intonations that he had picked up from me. His fiancée’s name was Amanda, and she soon joined us via FaceTime. This was how Mike found me: crying over the phone with my long-lost son.

Portrait of a handsome groom with his mother | Source: Getty Images

His explanations fell on deaf ears. I served divorce papers that week, and a month later, I flew to my home state to attend Rob’s wedding. This year, I sold the colonial house I once loved and moved closer to my son and his young family. Now, I’m a grandma to two sweet babies, and when they grow up, I will teach them, “Seek and ye shall find.”

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