Adam didn’t visit his mother for years, neglecting her after he started having a life of his own. One day, he had to pick up some documents from her home, only to find the home destroyed and abandoned.
Diana Evans raised her son Adam alone. Although she struggled, she worked very hard to feed him and pay for his education. After graduating from high school, he decided to attend a university halfway across the country.
Although Diana was sad, she happily sent Adam off to study and live in New York while she remained in California. They would keep in touch during his first few years there, and he would call his mother whenever he had time.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels
Diana never got to visit Adam in New York throughout his years in college. Their primary mode of communication was through phone calls, and although these started to lessen as time passed, Diana still appreciated them very much.
When Adam was set to graduate from university, he called his mom to invite her over. “Hey, mom!” he said on the phone.
“Hi Adam, it’s so great to hear from you! How have you been?” she said excitedly.
“I’m good, mom! I’m calling because I’m finally graduating in two weeks. Will you be able to come over?” he asked.
Hearing that, Diana was so proud and could feel her tears coming. She’d do anything to see her precious son march to get his diploma. “Of course, Adam. I’ll be there. I wouldn’t miss it! I’m so proud of you!” She smiled.
After ending the call, Diana proceeded to look for flights to New York. She was surprised to see how expensive the flights were, and she immediately realized she didn’t have enough money to purchase a round-trip ticket and a special graduation gift for Adam.
She decided to take in some extra work as a babysitter to earn money. She babysat for long hours to earn her money faster. When she had enough savings, she excitedly purchased her ticket and went to the department store to buy Adam a gift.
Diana circled the store for a couple of minutes before settling with a watch. She realized that any professional needed a nice and decent watch, so she wanted to give one to her son.
“Please wrap it nicely with a ribbon,” she told the saleslady. “It’s a graduation gift for my son. He’s graduating from a top university in New York!” she gushed.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels
“That’s awesome! You must be so proud. Congratulations!” the saleslady said, packing the watch.
A couple of days later, Diana excitedly made her way to New York. Adam picked her up from the airport, and together they drove to his campus, where the graduation ceremony would start shortly.
Diana excitedly pulled out her cellphone and started to snap pictures. When it was Adam’s turn to receive his diploma, she couldn’t help but stand and cheer her heart out. “That’s my son!” she exclaimed.
After the ceremony, Adam met Diana and enveloped her in a hug. “Oh, son, congratulations!” she said as they embraced.
“Thanks, mom. This is all because of you,” he smiled. “Let’s have a good dinner now,” he said, walking with his mom towards the university exit.
Adam and Diana ate at a fancy New York steak restaurant and had a nice dinner together. At first, Diana was worried about the bill, until Adam told her not to. “I took a part-time job while studying, mom. This is my treat to you. Thank you for taking care of me all these years,” he said, squeezing her hand.
Diana was in tears. She was so grateful that Adam grew up to be such a kind gentleman. “I’m proud of you, son,” she said. “I got you something, too. It’s nothing great, but I hope you like it.”
She took out the gift box and handed it to Adam. “You really didn’t have to get me anything, mom,” he said as he opened it.
When he saw that it was a watch, he was surprised. “This is beautiful, mom. Thank you,” he said with a big smile on his face. “I’m going to wear this to work every day. That way, I’ll always have you with me.”
That night, the mother and son spent the night talking to one another, taking photos, and simply enjoying New York’s sights.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels
After a couple more days in New York, Diana had to fly back to California. “Will you be visiting home soon, Adam?” she asked, suddenly remembering that she was back to living alone.
“I’ll try, mom. I do have some job interviews lined up, so I’m not sure when I’ll get to. I promise to call, though,” he assured her. With that, Diana nodded contently.
Unfortunately, that promise was short-lived. Adam used to call his mom every other day, but that slowly diminished until the calls just stopped coming.
During one of their final calls, Diana showed signs of depression caused by her loneliness. “I’ve lost a lot of weight, and I don’t really have an appetite,” she would share.
“You should eat, mom. Go out and talk to your neighbors and take walks in the park,” Adam said, shrugging off the signs she’d share.
For years, Adam would check on his mother once in a while but he was busy working in Wall Street and maintaining his relationship with his model girlfriend that these calls became too few.
One day, he decided to put up his own firm in New York. For that, he needed documents from California which he couldn’t ask his mom to simply mail. So at the last minute, he took a flight back home and traveled to their house without telling his mom. But when he got there, he was not expecting what he saw.
Their house was torn down and filled with cobwebs. The fences were on the floor, and the grass lawn looked as if it hadn’t been trimmed in years. He looked inside and saw the house empty save for some ruined furniture.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels
Adam proceeded to call his mother, but she was not answering, so he walked to the next-door neighbor’s house to ask him what happened.
“Hi, Mr. Green,” he said as soon as their long-time neighbor answered the door.
“Adam? Is that you?” he asked. “What are you doing here?”
“It’s me, Mr. Green. Where’s mom? What happened to our house?” he said, feeling both guilty and scared.
“Oh, well, remember that storm that hit California a couple of months ago? Our homes were severely damaged. Your mom didn’t have enough money to repair it, and she said she didn’t want to burden you, so she moved to a nursing home,” Mr. Green explained.
“What? Why don’t I know any of this?” Adam said, shocked. “Where is her nursing home?” he asked.
After getting the address, he quickly made his way there. When he arrived, he saw Diana, frail and in a wheelchair. “Mom,” he said, in tears, as soon as he saw her.
“Adam? What are you doing here?” Diana asked.
“Mom, I’m so sorry for not paying more attention to you. I’m sorry I wasn’t there when you needed me the most,” he said, on his knees in front of his mom’s wheelchair. He was sobbing, feeling guilty for having neglected his mother for years.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels
“Adam, don’t be ridiculous. Get up from there,” she said, trying to raise her son. He shook his head and clung to her knees, and Diana couldn’t help but cry. She thought she would never see Adam again, and seeing him there, in the flesh, asking for forgiveness, made her feel both touched and relieved.
“I’m so sorry, mom. You don’t have to be alone ever again,” he said, shaking his head. “I’m going to live with you, and I’m going to take care of you,” he promised.
This time, Adam really kept his promise. He completely repaired their old home and took his mother out of the nursing home once it was completed. He also decided to start his business in California instead of New York and asked his girlfriend to move in with them.
Since then, the three of them lived together happily. The couple took care of Diana and made sure she was happy again. Meanwhile, Diana helped out at home while both Adam and his girlfriend worked, by cooking them meals and helping out with house chores.
What can we learn from this story?
- We should always make time for our loved ones. No matter how busy life gets, we should always take time to check on our loved ones no matter how far away they may be.
- A mother’s love is forever. Although she felt sad and abandoned, Diana never lost her love for Adam. Instead, she remained hopeful that one day they would reunite and see each other again.
Share this story with your loved ones. It might inspire them and make their day.
If you liked this story, you might like this one about a woman who had to flee her home after it burned down, only to see a brand new structure built on her lot a couple of months after.
I Found Photos of Me with a Newborn, but I Don’t Remember Ever Being Pregnant
I opened a box of forgotten photos while cleaning the attic and found pictures of me holding a tiny newborn, my eyes brimming with love. But I’d never been pregnant, let alone given birth. I decided to investigate, unaware I must face a truth that would shatter me to the core.
A few weeks ago, I was cleaning the attic when I pulled an old box from the shelf. It was labeled “Photos – Keep” in my handwriting, though I had no memory of marking it. Dust motes danced in the bright light as I nervously opened the box.
An old box on the floor | Source: Midjourney
Inside, memories spilled out in glossy 4×6 prints: my college graduation with Mom and Dad beaming beside me, our wedding day with Daniel spinning me around the dance floor, and countless summer barbecues at the lake house.
Then, everything STOPPED.
There I was, in a hospital bed, cradling a newborn baby. My hair was plastered to my forehead with sweat, dark circles under my eyes, but my expression… I was gazing at that tiny bundle with such raw, pure love that it took my breath away.
A person holding a newborn baby | Source: Unsplash
More photos followed — me holding the baby against my chest, touching its impossibly small fingers, crying as I looked into its face. In another, I was feeding the baby, my finger trapped in its tiny fist.
But that was impossible. I’d never had a baby. Never been pregnant. NEVER. Then how was this possible?
I sank to the attic floor, surrounded by the scattered photos. My hands shook as I examined each one closely, searching for signs of manipulation or editing.
But they were real… the paper was aged and the corners slightly worn.
A shocked woman | Source: Midjourney
In one picture, a distinctive mustard-yellow chair sat in the corner of the hospital room, and the curtains had an odd geometric pattern I recognized.
It was St. Mary’s Hospital, the same hospital where we’d visited my aunt after her hip surgery last year.
Daniel was at work, and I was grateful for the solitude as I tried to make sense of what I was seeing. These photos showed a moment that should have been the most significant part of my life.
But I remembered nothing. Not a single second.
A mustard-yellow chair in a room | Source: Midjourney
My hands wouldn’t stop shaking as I gathered the photos and grabbed my car keys as soon as Daniel left for work the following morning.
I didn’t ask him anything as I wanted to find out about this mysterious baby on my own.
The hospital parking lot was nearly empty at 11 a.m. on that pleasant Tuesday. I sat in my car for five minutes, clutching the photos to my chest and trying to gather the courage to go inside.
A young mother walked past pushing a stroller, and my chest tightened with an emotion I couldn’t name.
A woman pushing a baby stroller | Source: Pexels
The reception area smelled of antiseptic and floor cleaner. A young woman with bright blue scrubs and a butterfly-shaped name tag looked up as I approached.
“Hi,” I said. “I need to access some old records of mine.”
“Look at this,” I then added, showing her the pictures. “Whose baby is this? Why am I holding it? I don’t remember anything. What’s happening?”
Without answering, she typed something on her phone and then frowned at her screen. Her fingers paused over the keypad.
“One moment, please!” she said, disappearing into a back office, whispering urgently to someone.
A hospital staff in scrubs | Source: Pexels
An older nurse emerged, her hair pulled back in a neat bun, her name tag reading “Nancy, Head Nurse.” Her eyes held a mix of concern and recognition that made my stomach twist.
“Miss, we do have records for you here, but we’ll need to contact your husband before we can discuss them.”
My stomach dropped. “What? Why?”
“Hospital policy, in cases like this. Please, let me call him now.”
A hospital staff holding documents | Source: Pexels
“No, these are my medical records. I have a right to know—”
But Nancy was already picking up the phone, her eyes never leaving my face. She dialed, and I heard the ring through the receiver.
“Sir? This is Nancy from St. Mary’s Hospital. Yes… your wife Angela is here requesting access to some medical records. Yes… I see… Could you come down right away? Yes, it’s about that… Thank you.”
A nurse holding a smartphone | Source: Pexels
My hands clenched into fists. “You know my husband? You have his number?”
“He’ll be here in 20 minutes. Would you like some water while you wait?”
“No. I want answers.”
I sank into a plastic chair, the photos clutched to my chest.
Every minute that ticked by on the waiting room clock felt like an eternity. When Daniel finally arrived, still in his work clothes, his face was ashen. He’d clearly driven here at full speed.
“Angela??”
A startled man in a hospital | Source: Midjourney
“What’s going on, Dan? Why do they have your number? Why won’t they talk to me without you?”
He turned to Nancy. “Is Dr. Peters available?”
The doctor’s office was small, with certificates covering one wall and a small window overlooking the parking lot. Dr. Peters was a middle-aged woman with kind eyes and worry lines around her mouth. She folded her hands on her desk as we sat down.
“Tell her,” Dr. Peters said. “Your wife deserves to know everything.”
My heart hammered against my ribs. “Know what? What’s going on?”
A doctor in her office | Source: Pexels
Daniel leaned forward, his elbows on his knees. “Six years ago, my sister Fiona came to us with a request. Do you remember how long she and Jack had been trying to have a baby?”
“Your sister? What does she have to do with this?”
“The fertility treatments weren’t working. The IVF failed three times,” he swallowed hard. “She asked if you would consider being her surrogate. And you said… yes.”
The world tilted sideways. “No. That’s not… I would remember that. A pregnancy? Being a surrogate? No, I wouldn’t—”
A shocked woman looking up | Source: Midjourney
“You were so determined to help her, Angel. You said it was the greatest gift you could give your sister-in-law. The pregnancy went perfectly. You were glowing and so happy to be helping them. But when the baby was was born—”
Dr. Peters spoke up. “You experienced a severe psychological break after delivery, Angela. The maternal hormones and bonding process were stronger than anyone anticipated. You refused to let go of the baby. When they tried to take him to Fiona, you became hysterical.”
I pressed my hands against my temples. “Stop. Please stop.”
Grayscale shot of a newborn baby | Source: Unsplash
“Your mind protected itself,” Dr. Peters explained gently. “It’s called dissociative amnesia. Your psyche built a wall around the memories to shield you from the trauma of the separation. In cases of severe emotional distress, the mind can—”
“You’re telling me I forgot an entire pregnancy? A whole baby? That’s not possible! I would know. My body would know. My heart would know.”
“Angel,” Daniel reached for my hand. But I jerked away so violently my chair scraped against the floor.
Portrait of a distressed man | Source: Midjourney
“Don’t touch me! You knew? All this time, you knew? Every time we talked about maybe having kids someday, every time we walked past a baby store… you knew I had carried a child? Given birth? And given him away like he was some freaking toy?”
“Where is he?” I demanded, my throat raw and eyes red-rimmed from crying.
“Fiona moved to the countryside shortly after. The doctors thought the distance would help you recover.”
A teary-eyed woman | Source: Unsplash
“So everyone just decided?” I laughed. “Everyone just chose to let me forget my own—” I couldn’t say the word. Couldn’t acknowledge what I’d lost. “Six years? Six birthdays, first steps, first words?”
“We thought we were protecting you.”
“By lying? By watching me live in ignorance? Did you all get together and plan this? Have meetings about how to keep me in the dark?”
“By letting you heal,” Dr. Peters interjected softly. “The mind can only handle so much pain, Angela. Your psyche chose this path for a reason.”
A frustrated woman | Source: Pexels
I dashed out of the hospital as fast as my legs could carry me. Daniel caught up, ushering me into the car. I was a total mess. My fragile heart was shattered beyond repair.
That night, I slept in our guest room, surrounded by the photos.
I studied each one until my eyes burned, trying to force my mind to remember. The way I touched his tiny face. The tears on my cheeks. The love in my eyes.
I pressed my hand against my stomach, trying to imagine him there, growing, moving, being part of me. But nothing came back. Nothing.
A sad woman sitting on the bed | Source: Pexels
“Can we see him?” I asked Daniel the next day.
“We should probably ask Fiona first,” he said, his voice uncertain. “But if you’re sure, I think she’ll be okay with it.”
It took a week to convince Fiona to let us visit. Seven days of negotiations through Daniel, because I couldn’t bear to speak to her directly. Not yet.
How do you talk to someone who has your child? Who took your child?
After countless phone calls and messages, Fiona finally agreed.
A man talking on the phone | Source: Pexels
The drive to the countryside was endless. I watched the landscape change through the window, each mile bringing me closer to a truth I wasn’t sure I could face.
Fields gave way to forests, forests to suburbs. All the while, my mind spun with questions.
Would he look like me? Would some part of him recognize me? Would I feel anything at all? Would he come running to me?
Aerial view of a car on the road | Source: Unsplash
Fiona’s house was everything I’d imagined during those sleepless nights. Perfect lawn, flowers in window boxes, a red bicycle leaning against the porch, and a tire swing. Wind chimes tinkled softly and the delicious smell of something cooking wafted in the air.
My legs shook so badly I could barely walk to the door.
Fiona stood there, just as I remembered her from the family pictures. But her eyes were cautious, teary, and guarded, like a watchful mother’s.
“Angela,” she said softly. “Come in.”
A teary-eyed woman looking at someone | Source: Pexels
My gaze swept across the room, searching for the little one who held the key to my forgotten past.
And there he was, peeking around the corner. Dark curls like mine and those familiar eyes. My heart squeezed so tight I couldn’t breathe.
My son! My baby! I longed to scream, to run to him, to hold him tight. But I stood rooted to the spot, numb with heartache.
“Tommy,” Fiona called, “come meet your Aunt Angela.”
A little boy wearing a hat | Source: Unsplash
He approached shyly, a toy dinosaur clutched in one hand. “Hello, Aunt Angela.”
“Hello, Tommy!” I said, his name feeling like a prayer on my tongue.
He studied me with those big, brown eyes, head tilted slightly. “Want to see my room? I have a bunk bed! And a T-Rex that roars when you push its belly.”
“I’d love that, sweetie.”
A woman with her eyes downcast | Source: Midjourney
As he led me upstairs, chattering about his dinosaur collection and his best friend Jake and how he could ride his bike without training wheels now, I felt it.
Not a memory exactly, but an echo. A ghost of what we might have been. Of all the moments I should have had.
Later that night, in our hotel room, I took out the photos one last time. The woman in them wasn’t a stranger anymore. I understood her joy, her pain, and her sacrifice even if I couldn’t remember feeling them myself.
A woman holding a newborn baby | Source: Unsplash
I touched the image of the baby, my finger tracing his tiny photostatic features.
“You okay?” Daniel asked from the doorway.
“No. But I think I will be.”
I slipped the photos back into an envelope. Some memories might stay lost and buried under years of protective fog. But now I had something more precious than memories: I had truth. And somehow, in that truth, I found the peace I didn’t know I’d been missing.
It would take time to fully come to terms with my truth, but this was a step in the right direction.
A woman holding an envelope | Source: Pexels
This work is inspired by real events and people, but it has been fictionalized for creative purposes. Names, characters, and details have been changed to protect privacy and enhance the narrative. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.
The author and publisher make no claims to the accuracy of events or the portrayal of characters and are not liable for any misinterpretation. This story is provided “as is,” and any opinions expressed are those of the characters and do not reflect the views of the author or publisher.
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