For six long hours, I kept asking myself: Why was my daughter-in-law so hostile toward us?
For six long years, I wondered: Why did she treat us with such coldness?
I havent spoken to my son Thomas in six years. I wasnt even invited to his wedding. I knew my daughter-in-law, Sophie, was to blame, though I couldnt understand why. It pained me deeply.
My husband and I have three sons together, but Thomas, the eldest, was specialthe one we had longed for, the pride of my heart.
Six years ago, Thomas met Sophie. From the start, things felt uneasy. My first impression of her was polite enough, but the second visit took a turn. We sat at the table when she suddenly told Thomas, *”Your clothes are awful. Ill buy you something decent.”* He shrugged and replied, *”No needeveryone has their own style.”* I agreed with him. Sophie frowned but stayed quiet.
The next day, Thomas kissed me goodbye, but Sophie didnt come near. At the time, I didnt grasp what had happened. Only later did I realizethat one small remark had earned me her resentment.
I wasnt invited to their wedding.
After months of silence, Thomas invited us to Brighton for his birthdaySophie was from there. We planned to stay at a hotel to give them space, but Thomas insisted we stay at Sophies flat, warning we might not see them much as she was busy with her parents shop.
We arranged to meet for lunch, but Sophie never showed. Days later, Thomas called. *”Mum, Im marrying Sophie,”* he said, adding they wanted only a small ceremony. I told him I was happy for him.
A week later, he called again. *”Sophie doesnt want you at the wedding. Just Dad is invited.”* His brothers were excluded too. I was speechless. I handed the phone to my husband, who refused to go without me and the boys. Thomas hung up, furious.
Sophie tried reaching me afterward, but my husband always answered. Finally, she got through, snapping, *”Oh, there you are!”* My anger boiled over. *”I dont want to hear from you again,”* I said. That was our last conversation.
Soon after, they moved to France. For two years, we heard nothing. My sister wrote to themSophie replied, *”Thomas has a new family now.”* He only kept in touch with his brother William, visiting him occasionally but never us. Six years passed.
Months ago, I tried reconnecting, missing Thomas terribly. I sent two apology lettersone to him, one to Sophie. No reply.
When my mother died three years ago, Thomas didnt come to the funeral. Nor when his aunt passed. In six years, we received one brief texton my husbands birthday. Then silence.
Part of me felt dead. I later learned theyd moved towns, but I didnt even know where. Every day, I thought of Thomas. The worst part? I still didnt understand why this had happened. I blamed Sophiewas she keeping him from us? But she never explained. Maybe Id started it all wrong. How I wished things had been different!
Two months ago, my husband and I won a trip to France. Wandering a quiet village, we stopped by a playground, dreaming of grandchildren. A little boy ran up to us chasing a ballso much like Thomas as a child! I smiled as my husband kicked the ball back, and they played. Then a voice called, *”Oliver!”*
I couldnt believe itthere stood Thomas and Sophie! After tearful hugs, words tumbled out, messy and raw. Wed all been too stubborn to reach out. But when little Oliver asked, *”Where are my grandparents?”* it changed everything.
We left our tour group, staying in that village as if starting anewwiser, softer, ready to mend what was broken.
Now, were making up for lost time, cherishing love and forgiveness. Sometimes, pride keeps us apart longer than pain ever should.
