Youre just jealous Mum, are you serious? The Ivy? Thats at least two hundred quid a head for dinner.
You Were My Teenage Mistake
A girl gave birth at sixteen, the father was also sixteen. Skipping the details of the scandal, they quickly split after the birth. When the girl realised the boy didn’t need her or their son, she instantly lost interest in her child. Her parents, the boy’s grandparents, raised him.
At eighteen, she left to a nearby town with another young man, never called, never wrote. Her parents made no effort to contact her. There was disappointment, confusion, shame and pain that they’d raised someone capable of abandoning her child.
The grandparents raised their grandson. To this day, the boy considers them his parents, and is incredibly grateful for his childhood, education, and everything.
When the boy turned eighteen, his cousin was getting married. The whole family gathered at the wedding, including his biological mother. By then, she was married for a third time and had another daughter.
Her eldest was ten, her youngest just eighteen months old. The boy was excited—finally, he would meet his mother and sisters. And, of course, ask: “Mum, why did you leave me?”
As loving as his grandparents had been, he still missed and remembered his mother. He’d even kept the only surviving photo of her. Granddad had burned the rest. At the party, his mother chatted with relatives, boasting about her wonderful daughters.
“And me, what about me, Mum?” he asked.
“You? You were my teenage mistake. Your father was right; I should have had an abortion,” she replied indifferently, then turned away.
… Seven years later, when he was living comfortably in a two-bedroom flat with his wife and son (thanks to his grandparents and in-laws), his phone rang. An unknown number.
“Son, hi, your uncle gave me your number. It’s your mum. Listen, I know you live near the university your sister goes to. Could she stay with you for a while? She’s family. She doesn’t like her dorm, private rent is expensive, my husband left me, times are hard, one daughter’s a student, another’s at school, and the youngest will soon start nursery,” she explained.
“You must have the wrong number,” he replied, and hung up.
He picked up his own son, hugged him and said:
“So, shall we get ready to visit Mum, and then all go see Grandma and Granddad?”
“And at the weekend, we’ll go to the countryside together, right, Daddy?” his little boy asked.
“Of course, family traditions must never be broken!”
… Some relatives criticised the young man’s decision, saying he could have helped his sister. He believes he should help only the grandparents who raised him, not the stranger who sees him as nothing but a mistake. You are a mistake of youth. My mother gave birth to me when she was just sixteen. My father was the same age.
I stood by the window, fists clenched, my heart hammering so hard I thought it might burst.
Grey London twilight was slipping over the streets, blurring the outlines of the terraced houses and
In the early years of my retirement I would wake before the alarm on my ancient mobile phone, even though
Gillian is a lover. She has never married and has lived with men until she turns thirty, when she finally
I live together with my mother. She is 86 years old. Life has turned out in an unusual way for me.
Saturday, finally a day to myself. I was enjoying a well-deserved lie-in, making up for the hectic week.
Youre joking, Mum, arent you? The Savoy? Thats at least two hundred quid a head! James threw his car
Are you honestly going to spend your whole Saturday sorting out rubbish in the garage? The entire Saturday?
