On Thanksgiving Day, my millionaire son looked at me with a smile and asked me a question that changed my whole life:
« Mom, did you like the house by the lake that I gave you? »
I froze. I replied, sincerely:
« What house? I never received anything. »
At that precise moment, I understood that something serious had happened. I didn’t yet know how serious.
A life of deprivation, without knowing
For two years, I survived on my janitor’s salary. I rationed my blood pressure medication, chose between paying the electricity bill and buying groceries, and wore the same worn-out coat winter after winter. I simply thought my son, David, was too absorbed in his work to take care of me.
David, 35, had built a successful technology consulting firm employing over 200 people. I was proud of him. Our interactions consisted of short phone calls, often cut short by his meetings. After his father’s death, he had thrown himself wholeheartedly into his work, and I never wanted to be a burden.
That Thanksgiving, I had given everything to welcome him properly: his favorite dishes, a modest but carefully set table, despite the sacrifices it implied for me.
When he arrived with his wife Victoria, I immediately felt the gulf between our lives. Everything about them exuded ease. Everything about me spoke of resourcefulness.
The revelation
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