This time, we sent an air fryer to our youngest granddaughter, the cheapest thing on her registry. Eloise called us, livid, accusing us of being cheap. I remember picking up her call and she didn’t even say hi, she just started ranting, “Seriously, Grandma? I just got your gift. An air fryer? That’s the cheapest thing you could find on my registry!”
I was taken aback because as much as the air fryer was the cheapest on their registry, I still thought it’d be useful to them, so I told her that. Eloise kept on complaining, “Useful? Come on, you know you can do better than that. Everyone knows you have the money. I just can’t believe you’d be this cheap with me. It’s embarrassing.”
In this heated moment, I told her, “Yes, you’re right. We are cheap, old, and useless. The only thing you DIDN’T know is that the day before the wedding, we were going to gift you a check for $40,000.”
I revealed this in an attempt to explain to Eloise about the cash gift we usually give our grandkids before the wedding but she was so angry at this point, that she wasn’t listening to a thing I said. I speculated that maybe she didn’t believe we would gift her such an amount of money after only buying her an air fryer.
Eventually, she said, “No, it’s clear. You just don’t love me enough to show it. You know how much pressure I’m under with the wedding. And then, this? It’s like you don’t even care,” then she hung up.
Despite my husband and I’s shock at Eloise’s reaction, we then bought her a China set, hoping to appease her, but decided against giving her the $40,000, feeling she hadn’t earned it.
Fast forward to last week. Eloise talked to her brother and found out that we were telling her the truth about the money. After confirming it with her cousins, she, called again, accusing us of discrimination, “I just found out that it’s true you gave the money to everyone else when they got married. Why didn’t I get anything?”
We stood firm, explaining our stance was due to her initial reaction, “We felt after your reaction to the wedding gift, it wasn’t right to go ahead and gift you the money.” Eloise pleaded trying to convince us otherwise, “So, you’re punishing me? Is that it? Because I was upset about an air fryer?”
I was angry that she didn’t even understand what she did wrong. “It wasn’t about the air fryer, Eloise. It was how you spoke to us, the disrespect. That’s not something we expected or can support,” I explained.
Eloise implored us, nearly in tears, “But that’s so unfair! I was stressed, Grandma. Planning a wedding is hard, and I just snapped. I didn’t mean any of it.” I felt like she should have only apologized to us instead of finding excuses to justify her behavior.
However, I told her, “We understand that it’s a stressful time, but actions and words have consequences. We hoped you’d understand the value of family and love over material things.” Full of desperation, Eloise added, “But you don’t understand! Can’t we just forget all this happened? I need that money, Grandma.”
She pleaded, threatened to boycott Christmas, and accused us of cutting her off but we didn’t budge. In the end, I expressed, “We love you very much. This has nothing to do with cutting you off. We just hope you’ll reflect on this and understand why we made our decision.”
Now, Eloise has followed up on her threat and she’s boycotting Christmas. Her mother, who is our daughter-in-law, is siding with her, calling us unreasonable. However, we feel that after all we have done for Eloise, the air fryer gift, shouldn’t have triggered this reaction.
For context, we had already paid for her college, and her parents covered her graduate school and half the wedding. Additionally, she and her husband are financially comfortable and do not desperately need our money.
We’re also not upset with our grandkids for revealing the cash gift since she is among the group of family members who are allowed to know about it. Our reason for sending the air fryer earlier was that we live far away, so we always send our gifts early.
The wedding gift is also separate from the money, which we give with the hope it will be used for something significant, like a home. Now, we feel like the action we took towards Eloise was well deserved and we are not going back on our decisions even if she and her mom threaten to do their worst.
Despite the tumultuous events and Eloise’s refusal to understand our perspective, my husband and I stand by our decision. Love and respect in our family are paramount, and we hoped this situation would be a learning experience for her.
The holidays might be quieter this year with her family’s absence, but our hope is for healing and understanding in the future. Our door and hearts remain open to Eloise, whenever she’s ready to mend fences.
Want more like this? Click here to read about a grandmother who sparked controversy online because she doesn’t bring her grandchildren gifts when she visits.
MY DAD JUST WOKE UP FROM A COMA, SAYING HE HEARD EVERYTHING IN THE HOSPITAL ROOM & EXPOSING MY WFE.
The sterile scent of the hospital room hung heavy in the air, a stark contrast to the joyous atmosphere that had filled it moments before. My father, his face pale but his eyes surprisingly alert, looked at us, a mixture of exhaustion and a strange intensity in his gaze.
“Dad,” I began, my voice trembling with emotion, “how was it? Did you have any dreams? Any… anything?”
He looked at each of us in turn, his gaze lingering on my wife, Leah, who had gone deathly pale. “Not only dreams, son,” he rasped, his voice weak but surprisingly clear. “I heard EVERYTHING that happened in this room.”
A collective gasp escaped from the assembled family members. My mother, tears streaming down her face, reached for his hand.
“Dad,” I said, my voice strained, “what do you mean?”
He turned his gaze back to me, his expression serious. “There’s something you need to know about your wife,” he said, his voice gaining strength. “Something you need to understand.”
Leah, her face ashen, tried to interject, but my father raised a frail hand to silence her. “She’s nothing at all like what we think she is,” he continued, his voice unwavering. “Once, she came here—without you.”
The room fell silent. The only sound was the rhythmic beeping of the heart monitor. Leah’s eyes, wide with fear, darted around the room.
“She came alone,” my father continued, his voice gaining strength. “She cried, she talked about… about how she was only with me for the money. She said she was relieved when I got into the accident. Said she was finally free.”
The words hung heavy in the air, each one a hammer blow to my heart. I looked at Leah, her face a mask of denial and fear. Her eyes, once filled with love and concern, now held a cold, calculating glint.
“Dad,” I whispered, my voice barely audible, “are you sure? Maybe you misheard?”
He shook his head slowly. “I heard every word, son. Every cruel word.”
The world seemed to tilt on its axis. The woman I loved, the woman I had vowed to cherish, was a stranger. A stranger who had pretended to love me, who had plotted my father’s demise.
Anger, cold and furious, surged through me. I wanted to scream, to lash out, to tear her apart. But instead, I felt a deep, suffocating sadness. The woman I had loved, the woman who had filled my life with joy, had been a lie.
Leah, her face contorted in a mixture of fear and defiance, tried to speak, but no words came out. She turned and fled from the room, her footsteps echoing down the hospital corridor.
I turned to my father, his gaze filled with a mixture of pity and regret. “I’m so sorry, son,” he whispered, his voice cracking. “I wish I could have warned you sooner.”
As I watched Leah disappear from view, I knew my life would never be the same. The trust I had placed in her, the love I had cherished, had shattered into a thousand pieces. The man who had awakened from a coma had not only saved my life but had also saved me from a lifetime of heartbreak.
The road ahead was uncertain, filled with pain and disillusionment. But I knew, deep down, that I would rebuild. I would learn to trust again, to love again. But this time, I would be wiser, more cautious. I would never again allow myself to be blinded by love, to let my guard down, to let someone else define my happiness.
The experience had left an indelible mark on me, a constant reminder of the fragility of trust, the importance of vigilance, and the enduring power of truth.
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