I am Mabel, 81 years old, and nothing prepared me for the day I became an inconvenience to the little girl I had helped raise. My husband, Harold, passed away when I was 75, and losing him felt like losing half of myself; the foundation of my life crumbled. My son, Douglas, insisted I move to the city to live with him and his wife, Evelyn, and at first, they were attentive and loving. Everything changed with my diagnosis: early-stage dementia. I could hear them arguing almost every night after that, their sharp voices drifting up through the heating vents about the cost of care. I knew I was becoming a burden, but I stayed because of Clara, my granddaughter, my sunshine, the only thing I truly wanted to see married before I joined Harold.
All I wanted after Harold died was to see Clara married before I left this world. I had been saving money for decades, earning it as a cleaner at a small bistro downtown, being careful with every spare dollar. Every penny went into a savings account Harold and I had opened, originally for our golden years, but now I saved it for Clara. When Douglas told me Clara was getting married to her fiancé, Josh, I said I wanted to help immediately, offering the full $25,000 I had saved. Douglas hesitated, saying they shouldn’t take it, but I insisted, reminding him my health was failing and I had little time left. Evelyn then appeared, listening, and with a warm smile, she urged Douglas to accept the money, though her eyes held a spark that looked a lot like greed.
The $25,000 was transferred the very next day. I watched the numbers disappear from my account and felt nothing but happiness, believing Clara’s wedding would be beautiful, and I would be a part of it. God, I was so innocent. It was just three weeks before the wedding when I overheard the truth. I had been trying to nap, and sleep does not come as easily as it used to, when I heard voices downstairs, loud and angry. I distinctly heard Clara’s voice shriek, “She’s not coming! She isn’t allowed!” Evelyn, trying to placate her, softly reminded Clara that her grandmother had paid for everything. “I don’t care!” Clara shrieked. “If she shows up, I’ll cancel everything. I will not let her ruin my special day!”
The words hit me like a slap. I gripped the edge of my bed, trying to breathe through the pain spreading across my chest. “She’s sick, Dad! She forgets things. She repeats herself,” Clara argued to Douglas. “What if she has an episode during the ceremony? What if she embarrasses me in front of Josh’s family? I can’t risk it.” Douglas, his voice strained, insisted that she was still her grandmother who loved her. “And this is MY wedding! MINE! I won’t have her there drooling or wandering around confused. It’s humiliating!” Clara shrieked. I sank back against my pillows, tears streaming down my face. The little girl who used to hold my hand and call me her best friend was embarrassed by me, ashamed of the woman who loved her unconditionally.
The very next day, I was moved to Serenity Pines, a pleasant nursing home. I knew this had been Evelyn’s plan all along. Lincy, the kind director, became my only friend. On the day of the wedding, I asked Lincy for just one hour to visit the venue, saying, “It’s my only grandchild. I won’t get another chance.” Lincy agreed only after Douglas reluctantly confirmed my visit. I got ready carefully, my hands shaking as I buttoned my soft pastel dress, choosing the pearl necklace Harold had given me for our 40th anniversary. As I approached the beautiful historic mansion, I heard shouting: Clara, shrill and panicked, yelling at Josh, her fiancé, who was canceling the wedding.
“One of your bridesmaids just told me what you did,” Josh’s voice echoed. “I won’t marry someone who disrespects their elders! You didn’t invite your grandmother because you were embarrassed by her illness? You don’t understand! She’s a burden!” Clara shrieked. “No, Clara,” Josh replied coldly, “You’re the actual burden. On her. On everyone who’s tried to love you. I’m leaving.” That’s when I pushed the door open. Clara froze when she saw me, her face white with shock. “I just wanted to see you in your wedding gown, honey,” I said softly. Clara trembled, ordering me to leave, but I stood my ground: “This is your day, yes, but some things are bigger than weddings.” Josh, looking relieved, firmly stated the wedding was over and walked out, leaving my shamed granddaughter alone in her expensive, paid-for gown.
