**Diary Entry**
“Is *this* what you’ve done with my wedding gift?!” I blurted out, shocked, as I stepped into my son and daughter-in-law’s home for the first time since their wedding a year ago. I couldn’t believe my eyes when I saw the state of the present I’d given them. It all started with wanting to surprise the newlyweds, but in the end, I learned a lesson I won’t soon forget.
**A Gift from the Heart**
When my son James told me he was getting married, I was over the moon. His fiancée, Emily, struck me as lovely—warm, kind-eyed, and practical. I wanted to give them something special, something meaningful for their life together. Money was tight—I’d spent my years as a schoolteacher, and my pension, as you’d expect, wasn’t much. But I was determined to give them something worthwhile.
After weeks of thinking, I settled on a washing machine—not just any model, but a top-of-the-range one: energy-efficient, packed with features, and a five-year guarantee. I’d saved for years from my pension, originally planning to buy it for myself, but decided the young couple needed it more. On their wedding day, I handed them the paperwork and keys—the machine already delivered to their flat. James and Emily were thrilled, hugging me and thanking me over and over. I was chuffed to bits, knowing I’d given them something truly useful.
**The Visit**
After the wedding, I didn’t see them often. They lived a few hours away in Manchester, busy with work and their own lives. I didn’t want to intrude. We rang now and then, and they’d pop over for holidays, but I hadn’t been to their place since the wedding. Then, after a year, I decided to visit. James said they’d love to have me, so I set off with a basket of homemade scones and jam, feeling cheerful.
Their flat was tidy—cosy, with fresh flowers on the sill. But when I walked into the utility room, my heart dropped. *My* washing machine stood in the corner, dust-covered, with scratches along the sides. Next to it was a sleek new one, gleaming under the bright lights. “What happened to the one I gave you?” I asked Emily. She hesitated before answering, “Oh, it was a bit noisy, and the settings were awkward… so we got a different one. This one’s just… well, sitting here for now.”
**My Reaction**
I was gutted. “*This* is what you do with a wedding gift?!” I couldn’t fathom how carelessly they’d treated something I’d saved years for. James tried smoothing things over: “Mum, don’t take it to heart—we just fancied an upgrade. We still use yours now and then.” But it was clear the machine was just gathering dust, like unwanted clutter.
I kept my voice steady, but inside, I was fuming. I explained that this wasn’t just any purchase—it was a piece of my heart, something I’d gone without to give them. Emily gave excuses—they hadn’t meant to offend, the new model just suited them better. James added they might move mine to their holiday cottage in the Lake District. The *cottage*—like some old cast-off!
**The Lesson**
I left with my heart heavy. Part of me understood—it was their home, their choice. But it hurt, knowing the thought behind my gift meant so little. I never expected eternal gratitude, just basic respect for something that had mattered deeply to me.
Now, I avoid the subject to keep the peace. James and Emily still call, still visit—everything’s the same. But I’ve decided: no more grand gestures. Next time, I’ll treat myself—maybe finally booking that trip to Brighton I’ve always fancied.
If you’ve been in my shoes—how did you move past the sting? Should I bring it up again, or let it go? I could use the wisdom.
