My name is Patty, and I have lived for 90 wonderful years. Through all the ups and downs, I can say my life has been full of blessings and happy moments. After my dear husband passed away a few years ago, it’s just been me and my daughter, Angie. We stuck together, just the two of us.
As my 90th birthday was getting closer, I was so excited! I couldn’t stop smiling every time I thought about it. Angie had promised that she and my sweet grandchildren would visit me and celebrate together. I imagined all the laughter, the hugs, and the smell of the cake we would share.
My grandchildren always made my heart melt. Every time I saw them, it felt like I was traveling back in time, remembering when my husband and I raised Angie. They looked so much like her—same bright eyes, same cheeky smile. But they also had features from their father, John, Angie’s ex-husband.
Oh, John… I always loved John like a son. He was such a kind man, always respectful and full of love. Even after he and Angie divorced, John never forgot me. Every Christmas, like clockwork, a card would arrive in the mail from him, filled with warm wishes. I had hoped deep down that John and Angie could fix their marriage, but sometimes life has other plans.
Finally, my birthday arrived! I woke up early, smiling to myself, humming little songs while I got ready. I set the table with my nicest dishes, baked a fresh apple pie, and waited eagerly.
But as the clock ticked on and lunchtime approached, a knot started forming in my stomach. Still no call from Angie. I tried calling her once. No answer. I tried again. Straight to voicemail.
Maybe she’s just driving, I thought. Maybe she’s busy picking up balloons or a cake. I clung to that hope tightly.
But deep down, a heavy sadness began to creep in. It was starting to look like I might spend this special day alone, just like so many other days lately.
Then suddenly—DING DONG! The doorbell rang! My heart nearly jumped out of my chest. I moved as fast as my old knees would allow, filled with hope.
But when I looked through the glass door, my excitement turned into confusion. It wasn’t Angie or the kids. It was a tall, broad figure standing there, holding flowers and what looked like a box of chocolates.
I opened the door—and there he was. John! Smiling brightly, arms full of gifts.
“Happy Birthday, Ma!!” John cheered, his voice warm and full of life.
“John?! Oh, wow! You didn’t have to!” I said, my heart swelling.
“Just brought you a little something to celebrate you on this wonderful day,” he said, handing me the flowers.
I glanced at the box he was holding and gasped. “Is that my favorite chocolate I see there? Oh, wow! You remembered?!” I said, trying to hide the tears welling up.
John laughed warmly. “How could I forget? It’s all you’d ever eat!“
My cheeks flushed with happiness. “You’re too sweet. Care to join me for dinner?” I offered, stepping aside to welcome him in.
John shook his head modestly. “Oh, no. I wouldn’t want to intrude. I’m sure you have plans. I just wanted to see your beautiful self and drop off your presents,” he said.
“Nonsense! I don’t have anything planned, and I’d love the company. Plus, I’m making apple pie,” I insisted, giving him my best persuasive smile.
John laughed. “Apple pie? Well, you should’ve led with that!” he said, stepping inside.
One thing I always admired about John was that he was an amazing cook, just like my late husband. It felt like old times as we moved around the kitchen together. He insisted on doing most of the work while I supervised, offering small tips and smiling the whole time.
The house smelled wonderful—warm apple pie, roasted chicken, and laughter filling every corner. It felt like family again.
As we sat down at the table, enjoying the food and each other’s company, John finally asked the question that had been hanging in the air.
“So, are Angie and the kids going to be joining us?” he asked gently. “I’d hate for her to think I was ambushing her or anything. I really had no intention of staying. But… I’m grateful I did.“
I sighed, feeling a heavy sadness settle over me. “Nonsense! You are the father of my grandchildren, which makes us family. And no, I do not believe Angie will join us today,” I said quietly.
John looked genuinely upset. “Oh, I’m sorry to hear that. You shouldn’t be alone on your birthday,” he said.
I reached across the table and grabbed his hand. “Well, thanks to you, son, I’m not. Thank you, John,” I said with a shaky smile.
John squeezed my hand back. “No problem, Ma. If you don’t mind me asking, why didn’t she come? Or at least the kids? I expected they’d be here. They love spending time with you,” he said, looking confused.
I explained as best I could. “They were all supposed to come, but Angie isn’t answering my calls. I honestly don’t know what happened. Maybe something came up, but I’m sure she’ll get back to me,” I said, trying to stay positive.
John frowned. “I’m not sure what’s going on with her, but the least she could’ve done was drop off the kids. I’ll give her a call,” he said firmly.
He pulled out his phone and called Angie. To my surprise, she picked up right away. John stepped out onto the porch to talk privately. When he came back inside, his face was tight with anger.
“So, it turns out Angie, her new boyfriend, and the kids are all on vacation,” he said, his voice full of frustration.
My heart dropped. “Vacation? And she didn’t tell anyone? She just up and left? Why would she do that?” I asked, stunned.
John shook his head. “Your guess is as good as mine, Patty. Where does she get off leaving with my children without telling me a word?” he said bitterly.
I sat back in my chair, feeling crushed. “Oh, no. This is very disappointing. And, who is this fellow? I didn’t even know Angie had a boyfriend,” I said, feeling betrayed.
John looked just as hurt. “She’d mentioned something in passing before, but a whole vacation?! And apparently, they’d been planning it for about a month now. Excuse me, Patty, but I believe your daughter’s taken things a little too far this time,” he said.
I nodded sadly. “Yes, this is disappointing,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper.
The news hit me like a punch to the chest. How could Angie just leave without a word? On my 90th birthday of all days?
Later, I managed to talk to Angie myself. She apologized, said she didn’t mean to hurt me, and promised she would come visit with the kids as soon as possible. But the damage was already done.
As her mother, I will always love Angie. But the hurt she caused that day cut deep. A part of me doesn’t know how to fully trust her again.
I’m so grateful that John was there. He softened the pain with his kindness, his laughter, and his presence.
But still, in the quiet of that night, as I sat by the window watching the stars, I couldn’t help but feel a little piece of my heart crack.
