Don’t Leave, Mum: A Family Story There’s an old saying: people aren’t like nuts—you can’t crack them right away. But Tamara Watson was sure that was nonsense. She prided herself on reading people perfectly! Her daughter, Millie, had married just a year ago. Tamara had dreamed of her daughter finding the right man, starting a family, and welcoming grandchildren. She imagined herself as the proud matriarch of their sprawling, happy brood, just as she had always been. Russell seemed clever and certainly wasn’t short of money—and he was obviously a bit smug about it. But the newlyweds insisted on living independently, as Russ had his own flat, and it seemed they didn’t need Tamara’s advice about anything! She could see he was clearly a bad influence on Millie! This arrangement didn’t fit with Tamara’s plans at all. Russell got right under her skin. “Mum, you just don’t understand—Russell grew up in care. He’s worked for everything, he’s strong and kind,” Millie would protest. But Tamara would just purse her lips and find new faults with Russell. He was not at all the person he pretended to be in front of her daughter! And it was her motherly duty to open Millie’s eyes to this vacant man before it was too late! No degree, difficult to talk to, uninterested in anything! At weekends, he just slumped in front of the telly, claiming he needed to “rest!” And her daughter wanted to spend her life with someone like that? No way! She was sure Millie would thank her in the end. And what about the children, her future grandchildren—what kind of father would teach them anything worthwhile?! All in all, Tamara was bitterly disappointed. Russell, sensing his mother-in-law’s mood, started avoiding the family. They spoke less and less, and Tamara eventually refused to step foot in their flat. Millie’s dad, ever the gentle soul, kept neutral, knowing what his wife could be like. One night, Millie rang Tamara sounding frantic: “Mum, I didn’t tell you, but I’m away for work for two days. Russell caught a chill on site, came home early, and isn’t answering my calls.” “Milly, why are you telling me this?” Tamara exploded. “You two are so independent now, don’t seem to care about us! If something’s wrong with me, nobody notices! And now you wake me up at night to say your husband’s ill? Are you alright in the head?” “Mum, please…” Millie’s voice trembled with worry, “It just hurt that you think Russell’s no good, when he’s not like that at all. How could you think I’d marry someone bad? Don’t you trust me?” Tamara was silent. “Mum, please, you’ve got our spare key. Can you go and check on him? I’m really worried—something’s wrong with Russ. Please, Mum!” “Alright, but only for you,” Tamara said, waking her husband. When they arrived, no one answered the bell, so Tamara let herself in. “It’s probably nothing—maybe he’s not home?” her husband suggested, but Tamara’s anxiety grew. She entered the living room—and froze. Russell was sprawled on the sofa, burning with fever. The paramedic who arrived nodded sympathetically: “Looks like your son’s got complications from a cold—kept working through it, I bet?” “He works hard,” Tamara nodded. “He’ll be okay. Keep an eye on him, ring if anything changes.” Russell slept, and Tamara found herself sitting at his bedside all night—the son-in-law she’d resented for so long. He looked younger, softer, asleep—a far cry from his usual self. “Mum—don’t go, Mum,” Russell murmured in his sleep, gripping her hand. Tamara was stunned. But she didn’t pull away. She sat there beside him until dawn. At sunrise, Millie rang again: “Mum, sorry to put you through this—I’ll be home soon, you don’t need to come around, I think it’ll all work out.” “It will, darling, it already has,” Tamara said gently. “We’re here, and everything’s alright.” ***** When Millie’s first child was born, Tamara was the first to offer her help. Russell kissed her hand in gratitude: “See, Millie? You said your mum wouldn’t want to help us.” Tamara, proudly cradling baby Timothy, paraded around the flat, whispering to the newborn: “Little Tim, you’re a lucky lad! You’ve got the best mum, dad, and grandparents! What a life you’ll have!” Perhaps the old saying is true: people aren’t like nuts—you can’t crack them straight away. It’s only love that helps you truly understand each other.

Author Emily TaylorReading 5 minViews 3

Folk wisdom says: You cant judge a book by its cover.

But Margaret Smith always thought such sayings were nonsenseshe prided herself on being an excellent judge of character!

A year ago, my daughter Emily got married.

Id always longed for her to find a good man and settle down, perhaps even bless us with grandchildren. I imagined myself as the matriarch of a big, happy English family, just like in the old days.

Then along came Adam. He was clever enoughand definitely not short of a bob or two. He seemed quite proud of his achievements as well. But instead of settling nearby, they moved into Adams own flat, and apparently, my advice was surplus to requirements!

To me, Adam was a bad influence on Emily.

It was nothing like what Id dreamed for her. Adam, frankly, began to get under my skin.

Mum, you just dont understand, Emily would sigh, frustrated. Adam grew up in care. Hes made something of himselfhes strong and kind.

I just pursed my lips and quietly made a mental list of Adams flaws.

He wasnt who he seemed at all, at least thats how it felt to me! It became my motherly duty to help Emily see Adam for who he really was, before it was too late.

No real education, stubborn, no real hobbies or passions!

He wasted his weekends lounging in front of the telly, claiming exhaustion!

Did Emily really want to spend her life with someone like that? I wasnt about to let that happennot if I had anything to say. One day, shed thank me.

And when the grandchildren arrived, what sort of example would that set? What could a father like Adam teach my future grandchildren?

I was left so disappointed. Adam, clearly sensing where my sympathies lay, started keeping his distance too.

Our visits became less and less frequent, and I flatly refused to set foot in their home.

Emilys father, gentle soul that he is, took a diplomatic stance, knowing me all too well.

Then one evening, I received a phone call from Emily. She sounded terribly worried.

Mum, I didnt mention Ive gone on a work trip for two days. Adams come down with something, caught a chill on site and headed home from work earlynot feeling himself at all. I cant get through to him now; hes not answering.

And youre ringing me about this? I snapped, irritated. You two are always so independent, never minding about us! I could be ill for all you knownot that anyone seems bothered! Now you call in the middle of the night to fret about Adam being poorly? Honestly, Emily!

Mum Her voice trembled; she did sound truly anxious. Im just upset that you never seem to understand how much we care for each other. You always think Adam isnt worthy, but hes not how you see him! Dont you trust me enough to know Id only love someone whos a good person?

I was silent.

Mum, please, you still have a key to the flat. Could you check on Adam? Im really worried. Please.

All right, but only for your sake, I replied, going to rouse my husband.

No one answered the bell at their flat, so I used my key to let us in.

It was dark inside; maybe no one was home?

Perhaps hes gone out? my husband suggested, but I shot him a stern lookEmilys worry had infected me.

As I entered the lounge, my heart froze. Adam was sprawled awkwardly on the sofa, burning with fever.

A paramedic managed to bring him round.

Dont worry, he told me kindly, Your son-in-laws got complications from a cold. Been pushing himself too hard at work, has he?

I nodded.

Hell be fine. Keep an eye on his temperature and ring us if you need anything.

Adam fell back asleep. I settled into the armchair, feeling strangethere I was, watching over the son-in-law Id so resented.

He looked young, vulnerable, hair stuck damply to his forehead from the fever. I felt an unexpected rush of pity. As he slept, his face seemed softer, gentler.

In his half-sleep, Adam suddenly whispered, Mum, dont go please, Mum. He took my hand in his burning one.

I was stunned, but I didnt dare pull my hand away.

I stayed with him through the night.

At dawn, Emily called again.

Mum, Im so sorry. Ill be home as soon as I can. You really dont need to comehopefully, itll all be fine.

Its all right, darling. Everythings under control, I said, smiling. Were waiting for you. All is well.

*****

When my first grandson was born, I immediately offered to help.

Adam gave my hand a grateful kiss.

See, Emily? You said your mum might not want to help, but you were wrong.

Holding little Thomas in my arms, I proudly paced the flat, whispering to him:

Well, Tommy, youre a lucky lad. The best parents, and a gran and granddad who love you to bits! Youre blessed, my boy.

So maybe, after all, the old saying holds trueyou cant judge a book by its cover.

And only love, in the end, shows us what truly matters.

She Was Never Truly Alone: An Ordinary Story It was a late winter morning as daylight crept in. Outside, council workers scraped snow from the close with their sturdy shovels. The heavy front door banged shut again and again, ushering in and out the flood of neighbours hurrying off to work. On the sixth-floor windowsill, Felix the cat observed it all with quiet curiosity. In his previous life, Felix had been a city banker, concerned only with money and numbers—never pausing to consider what else life might hold. But now, he understood that kindness, companionship, and a warm roof overhead far outweighed worldly wealth. Felix glanced back. There, on the old sagging sofa, slept Nan Val, his saviour and best friend. He slinked down from the window and curled up at her pillow, soft fur pressed gently against her silvered head. Felix knew Nan Val’s head ached each morning, and he did what he could to help. “Felix, you’re quite the little healer!” she murmured as she awoke to his gentle warmth. “That pain’s gone, you clever boy—how do you do it?” Felix gave his paw a nonchalant shake as if to say, “It’s nothing—I could do much more if you asked!” But then a low, jealous grumble echoed from the hallway: it was Gav, the terrier. Gav had been Nan Val’s loyal companion for many years. At the first sound of unfamiliar footsteps, he always barked with gusto, protecting his home and the woman he loved. No doubt he fancied himself the true master of the flat. “What was he in a past life?” mused Felix. “A police constable, maybe—or a foreman. Loud and bossy, but perhaps that’s just what a guard dog should be!” “My darlings, what would I do without you?” Nan Val sighed fondly, shuffling to her feet. “Now, time for breakfast—then off for a little walk.” “And if the pension comes in this week, I’ll buy us a chicken!” At the word “chicken,” a wave of excitement swept the room. Felix kneeded the sofa with his paws, purring so loudly it made Nan Val chuckle. He nuzzled her thin arthritic hand with his broad furry head. “Oh, you wise old boy—you understand every word, don’t you?” she sighed in delight. Gav barked in agreement and bumped his cold nose against her knee. “They’re such loving souls,” Nan Val thought, smiling. “Home is warmer and the heart less lonely with them near.” “When I’m gone, who knows what comes next? Everyone’s got an opinion, but who can say for sure? If I had my choice, I’d come back as a cat—so long as a kind person would take me in. As a dog, I don’t think I’d manage—all that barking. I’m too soft-spoken for that. But a cat? I’d make a gentle, affectionate one, I’m sure. Just let me land with good people.” “Goodness gracious, what strange ideas!” she scolded herself. “That’s what old age does to your mind.” She didn’t notice Felix’s sly whiskered smile as he glanced at Gav, silently thinking: “See—she wants to be a cat, not a dog.” After all, Felix had learned to read minds these days—a rather nice bonus, really. And that’s how things stood, in their little flat above the snowy streets of England.

I’ll Always Be With You, Mum: A Heartfelt True Story That Will Make You Believe Grandma Val couldn’t wait for the evening to arrive. Her neighbour Natalie, a kind-hearted woman in her late forties, had told her something so extraordinary that her head was spinning. And to prove her point, Natalie had even invited her round in the evening to show her something special. It had all started with a simple chat that morning. Natalie popped in on her way to the shop: “Need me to pick anything up, Gran Val? I’m off to the corner shop for bits and pieces and fancy baking a pie.” Gran Val replied, “You’re such a good soul, Natalie. I’ve known you since you were a girl. It’s a shame you never settled down, always on your own. But you never seem sad, not like some.” “What’s there to complain about, Gran Val? I do have someone I love, I just can’t live with him yet. Why, I’ll tell you the story this evening over a cuppa. Bet you’ll be glad for me—and stop worrying!” Natalie brought Val some bread and sweets for tea, and soon they were settled with mugs in hand, Val itching with curiosity. Natalie smiled knowingly and began: “You remember, Gran Val, what happened to me all those years ago. I was nearly thirty. Had a lovely man, we were planning to marry. I wasn’t in love, but thought, well, he’s good. Why not have a family? He moved in, I got pregnant. At eight months, I had a little girl. She lived just two days before I lost her. I thought I’d never get through it, parted ways with my fiance. Couple of months later, I began to pull myself together. And then—something happened. In the night, I started hearing a baby crying. At first, I thought it was just my grief. But the crying kept coming. I went to the cot I’d set up—and there she was. My little girl. I picked her up, and she smiled, closed her eyes, and slept. And since then, she’s come to me almost every night. She lives in another world now, has a mum and dad there. But she still visits me. Sometimes, she brings little gifts—though they never last, fading away like spring snow…” Gran Val stared, hardly breathing, savouring the tale, and agreed to visit Natalie that very evening. In the quiet cheery kitchen, as the air shimmered, a gentle glowing girl appeared. “Hello, Mum! It’s been such a wonderful day, I brought you these flowers.” And she turned to Gran Val: “Oh, hello! Mum said you wanted to see me. I’m Marianne…” After she faded, Gran Val could only whisper, “Well, I never. It’s all true, after all. Your girl’s a beauty, Natalie. You’re luckier than you think, love. Thank you for opening my eyes—there’s more to life than we know.” As Gran Val left, the flowers on the table faded away, but Natalie’s heart was full of hope for the new day and her love for Arkie, the man in her life. Someday soon, she’d introduce her dearest loved ones—Marianne and Arkie. I’ll Always Be With You, Mum: A Heartfelt True Story That Will Make You Believe