“Son, all my life, I believed that because I was your father, you were obligated to forgive me for everything. But now I understand that being your father never gave me the right to take your family’s money.”
His voice trembled.
“I didn’t just take your savings. I betrayed your trust. Please forgive me.”
Daniel stood silently for a long moment.
Then he stepped forward and wrapped his arms around his father.
George broke down sobbing.
In forty-five years of marriage, I had never seen my husband cry like that.
Then our son hugged me, too.
“Mom, we’ve missed you so much.”
For the first time in six months, we all sat down for dinner together. Sarah asked me to help in the kitchen, and our grandchildren climbed onto their grandfather’s lap again.
A few weeks later, we repaid the last of the money.
We never moved back into our son’s house. We learned to live in our little apartment and respect our children’s boundaries.
