When I went away for business, I put my faith in my husband to take care of my mother, who was battling cancer. On the other hand, I was taken aback when I arrived home early and saw that she was shivering under a single blanket while sleeping on a flimsy mattress in the hallway. In what way could he be so cruel?
I feel as though I am in a nightmare. This is Eliza, my name. I have a kid who has just begun college, and I am 41 years old and married.
Without her, our home had a calm and peaceful atmosphere. By preparing a few bite-sized meals and going on walks with my husband, Clifford, in the evenings, I made an effort to enjoy it. On the other hand, I longed for the vitality of my daughter.
After that, my mother, Norma, was diagnosed with cancer. She began chemotherapy, which is notoriously challenging.
In order to ensure that she was not by herself, I wanted to assist her. Therefore, I conveyed to Clifford my desire for her to remain with us.
Mom and Clifford were never able to get along. Although they did not argue with one another, they did not get along.
Mom is such a sweetheart. She keeps birthdays in mind and is attentive when things get difficult in life. Nevertheless, Clifford maintained his distance, and she did the same.
They had different opinions on matters such as the holidays and how to raise our kid. Clifford was considered impolite by Mom. In Clifford’s opinion, Mom was a dictator.
In spite of this, they were pleasant during family dinners.
Casey, my daughter, has a deep affection for her grandmother, and she would readily embrace her whenever she visited. That maintained the tranquility of the situation.
My heart was broken, however, when the doctor informed me that my mother had cancer. Because we are so close, it was quite painful to see her in pain.
According to the doctor, chemotherapy would cause her to become dizzy and weak. Having someone by her side at all times would be necessary.
Neither did I wait. So that I could take care of her, I suggested that she move in with us. For the sake of making her feel more at ease, I offered her either the guest room or Casey’s room, given that Casey was absent.
I was of the opinion that it was the appropriate action to do. I had the impression that Clifford would comprehend. I had a mistake.
My mother was placed in the guest room. At the same time, it was close to the kitchen.
The very first night, she never stopped expressing her gratitude.
“I don’t want to be a bother, Eliza,” she added while she was holding my hand to hers.
You are not a nuisance at all. I told her, “You are my mother.”
She was really a good fit. She was kind and nice, despite the fact that chemotherapy made her exhausted. Even when I was not looking, she continued to make an effort to assist me by folding clothes or sweeping the porch.
I would say, “Mom, stop,” as I led her to the couch while supporting her with a blanket. “Just take a break. It is your responsibility to improve.
In a low voice, she would add, “I want to help.”
I was required to leave for a work trip that would last for one day. I experienced apprehension.
I sat down next to my mother’s bed. It is my intention to return by tomorrow’s lunchtime, but I will be departing in the morning. Are you feeling okay?
It was a smile. “Eliza, I am doing well. One night has passed. We have Clifford here. I’ll get some rest.”
Not only did her words help, but I also felt anxious. After kissing her and tucking her in, I promised to give her a call. Then I left, assuring myself that it was just going to be for one night.
The next day, I arrived home before lunchtime, having finished my work earlier than usual. The idea was to take Mom by surprise with some delicious treats from her go-to bakery. My heart was broken by what I saw, however.
My mother was lying on a tiny mattress that was placed on the floor in the hallway. While she was sleeping, she was shivering and huddled up under a single blanket.
I was unable to take a breath. In my haste to reach her, I knelt down.
“Mom?” I stated that. Why are you in this place?
Her eyes opened, and she appeared to be exhausted. “According to Clifford, there is no room. The mold was found in the guest room as well as the other rooms, so I was forced to sleep here. This is only for the night.”
Mildew? In each and every room? As I was leaving, the house was already clean. In addition, he did not bring this up when I contacted him the night before.
As I pulled the blanket closer around my body, I said, “Wait here.”
My hand was held by her. “Don’t get so angry, Eliza…” I should not tell you, Clifford told me. There was no need for you to be concerned.
My pain was unbearable. Despite being unwell and lying on the floor, she was making an effort to maintain calm.
I hushed, “Don’t tell Clifford that I’m going to be back this early.” Do not yet.”
She gave a slight nod. After giving her a kiss, I silently walked away, pretending that I hadn’t witnessed anything.
Pretending that I had just arrived, I returned with a loud voice and a bag in my hand at noon.
While he was in the kitchen, making coffee, Clifford put on a happy face as if everything was going well.
“Hey,” he greeted me. “How was your trip?”
I cracked a grin. I agree. Did anything take place?
“Not at all. That’s all right,” he said.
Where is Mom? I inquired about it. She sleeps well, right?
“She is doing ok. I made sure he was okay. She was doing fine.”
He was so easy to deceive. I simply nodded and remained silent.
Afterwards, as I was walking down the hallway, I noticed something. The mattress hadn’t been found. The hallway appeared to be spotless, as if nothing had occurred. Nothing, not even a pillow or a blanket…
He had concealed everything in order to make the property appear flawless.
I was unable to set this aside. It was unacceptable to ignore it.
In the evening of that particular day, I entered the living room carrying a box while Clifford was sitting there on his phone. I maintained my composure.
I told her, “I have something for you that I brought back from my trip.”
Overjoyed, he raised his head. What is it? Howdy, ”
The package was placed on the table by me. To open it up.
Although he opened it quickly, his smile began to fade.
There were photographs that I had taken that morning of my mother lying on the mattress, her frail body resting beneath a thin cover, and appearing pale and exhausted.
Clifford became ice cold. This is what it is.
I respond with, “The truth.” “You have done this to my mother,” she said. I heard you say that there was no room. To both her and to me, you lied. After that, you hid it.”
He was silent as he gazed. After then, his expression became sour.
“She was deserving of it,” he stated.
What he said was as painful as a slap.
Suddenly, he yelled out, “Yeah, I said it! What a nuisance she is! You brought her here for what reason? I have no desire for her. No matter whether she is ill, I don’t care. It is not my responsibility!
As I spoke, my voice was shaking as I said, “That’s my mom.” My life was saved by her. Even though she is struggling to stay alive, you have treated her like garbage.
He cried, “Don’t make me the perpetrator of the crime.” “I am employed, I pay the bills, and I keep this house open. Must I now share my home with an elderly woman who is ill? In no way. Would you like to take care of her? That’s fine. However, I will not.”
I was so hysterical.
My response was, “All you needed to do was provide her with a bed.” “A house… Being kind. Even though she is afflicted with cancer, you forced her to sleep on the floor as if she were nothing.
“I’m going to leave you if you go with her,” he warned. “If your mother comes first, I won’t stay where she is.”
I was able to see him for what he truly was: a self-centered individual.
My response was, “Then you should leave.” If I had to choose between my spouse and my mother, I would go with the mother because she was the one who brought me up and never made me feel like a problem.
He developed a dark face. Although he was about to speak, I was able to stop him. As I stood there, I indicated the entrance to the room.
I told them to “get out.” Following this, you have no business being here.
While muttering, he laughed, grabbed his keys, and then walked away.
Following his departure, I sat down on the couch and shed tears.
Clifford was shown to me in his true form. A harsh and self-centered individual who is not a partner. I’d been wanting it for far too long.
I visited my mother. She was awake and appeared to be anxious.
Inquiring, “Eliza, are you feeling okay?”
I got down on my knees and took her hands. “I’m doing well, Mom. Not again will he cause you pain. He is no longer here.”
Holding my hands, she gave a slight nod. “I did not want to be a source of contention.”
I responded by saying, “You did not.” He enlightened me to the reality. The answer is now clear to me.
That evening, I assisted her in accessing the guest room. Although my hands were shaking, I was confident as I sat at the kitchen table with my laptop.
I did some research on divorce attorneys in my area.
It was challenging to obtain a divorce. It required me to confront years of deception and it required me to let go of the life I believed I had. But once I signed the paperwork, I felt liberated, like if a burden had been lifted off of my shoulders.
During the course of her therapy, Mom remained with us. I observed her struggle with a calm and determined strength. It was a tradition for Casey to visit her grandmother on the weekends.
Although Clifford contacted me several times, I did not return his calls. Nobody had anything to say about it. The individual who forced my ailing mother to sleep on the floor was not someone who should be a part of either my life or the life.