The emptiness of George’s departure permeates their residence, his presence enduring in the shirt Mariana grips nightly. However, it wasn’t his passing that devastated her… it was her stepdaughter Susan’s insistence on inheriting his wealth. When she reluctantly agreed, an unexpected twist left Susan enraged and Mariana strangely content.
Progressing past the death of a dear one is always challenging. At times, I still sense my husband George’s voice echoing in my mind. I awaken holding his cherished shirt, his fragrance still clinging to the material. Yet, as I mourned him, my stepdaughter’s actions… they utterly broke me…
I am Mariana, aged 57, wed to the kindest man, George, for 25 years. He had a daughter, Susan, aged 34, from an earlier marriage.
Our bond with Susan was once good. She addressed me as “Mom” and filled the gap in my heart from not bearing my own children. I never viewed her as “another’s” child. I cherished her as my own daughter, truly.
When Susan wed her chosen partner, George and I were thrilled. But then, everything deteriorated when George received a terminal cancer diagnosis.
Susan’s visits reduced from weekly to monthly, then ceased entirely. She seldom visited her father, occasionally phoning to inquire about his health.
One day, she posed a question that tore me apart. “How long does he have left?”
Clutching the phone tightly, my voice shook. “Susan, your father isn’t an item with an expiration date.”
“I just need to know, Mom. I’m swamped, you know that… I can’t come by often,” she responded.
“Swamped?” I repeated, my tone filled with disbelief. “Too swamped to visit your dying father?”
She exhaled deeply. “Look, I’ll attempt to come soon, okay?”
But that “soon” never materialized.
Then, the dreaded day arrived. The hospital informed me that George had passed away peacefully.
I was devastated, barely able to stand as the reality sank in. My beloved George, gone.
Shockingly, Susan didn’t attend his funeral. When I called her, she promptly excused herself.
“I’m expecting, Mom,” she stated, her tone strangely indifferent. “The doctors advised against lengthy travel due to some medical concerns.”
I swallowed hard, holding back tears. “But Susan, it’s your father’s funeral. Don’t you wish to bid him farewell one last time?”
“I can’t jeopardize my baby’s health,” she curtly replied. “You understand, right?”
I didn’t, not truly, but I nodded silently, forgetting she couldn’t see me. “Of course, dear. Take care.”
As I sat near my husband’s coffin, I couldn’t dismiss the notion that our relationship had irrevocably changed.
Six months post-George’s death, I was startled by a loud knock at my door. Opening it, I saw Susan and her husband Doug, along with a severe-looking man in a suit.
Susan entered without greeting. “Mom, we need your signature on some documents.”
Baffled, I blinked. “Which documents?”
Doug handed me a stack of papers, including a blank sheet. “Just sign these. They’re for transferring all the properties into our names.”
Black Man Holds White Baby, Close Look Tells State Of ‘Race Relations’
A photograph of a black man holding a white baby has gone viral on social media. As viewers began to realize what was really happening in the snapshot, they couldn’t believe their eyes.
“So a lot of people like this picture. So I wanted to take a minute to tell the story,” Facebook user Cody Shugart captioned a snapshot of his son sitting in the lap of a black man. Shugart went on to identify the black man as Milton West, who was his childhood next door neighbor. Shugart had many a good memory with Milton West at the center.
Milton West was my childhood next door neighbor,” wrote Shugart. “I knew him as Mr. Chip. He retired from DOW chemical as an operator. He has always been there for me since I was two years old. Growing up without a father was always difficult for me. But the good lord surrounded me with great men, Mr.Chip was one of them.”
“He constantly preached the value of an education, taught me how to take care of a yard, he taught me to see people for who they are not what they look like, he taught me how to treat my mother like a saint and many other life lessons,” added Shugart. “His contributions to me becoming a good son, man, and father were huge. I am forever grateful for God putting him in my life.”
“Everyday, I read something negative and how race relations are worse than ever. I disagree, and I hope this is a positive loving message to many people. This is just one story in little ol Victoria, Texas. I’m sure there are millions of similar stories across the United States,” he concluded.
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