My mom always left my dad, swearing it was for good, only to return after his apologies and gifts. It became a pattern I was used to, a cycle that never broke. But this time, when she showed up at my door with a suitcase, she had news that changed everything.
I sat across from my friend Sandy in my kitchen, enjoying a rare moment of free time together. Life got busy, and it felt like we never saw each other anymore.
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“It’s nice to finally catch up,” Sandy said with a smile.
“Yeah, it is,” I agreed, pouring her a glass of wine.
After a pause, she looked at me curiously. “Is your mom living with you now?”
“No, why would she?” Sandy’s eyebrows furrowed.
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“I thought she left your dad again?”
“Oh, you know how it goes with them. Every two years, same story. He messes up, she gets mad, packs her bags, and swears she’s done for good. Then he buys her something fancy, and suddenly all is forgiven. They act like they’re in love again, like nothing ever happened.” Sandy sighed.
“Have you tried talking some sense into her?”
“I did,” I said, feeling the old frustration return.
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“I told her she deserves better. But then she goes back to him, and she’d get mad at me, saying I wasn’t supporting her.”
Sandy frowned and took a sip of her wine. “I’m sorry, Amalia. That sounds hard.”
My eyes landed on the corner of the kitchen table, where my mom had left a note the last time she left my dad. I could still picture her then—standing in my doorway, suitcase in hand, her face full of hope.
“I’ve left him for good this time, Amalia,” she said with a determined smile.
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I wanted to believe her, but deep down, I doubted it. Still, a tiny hope stirred inside me, whispering that maybe this time would be different.
We went to a café nearby for breakfast, sitting across from each other. I took a deep breath, trying to steady my nerves, and finally said what I’d been too scared to say before.
“Mom, you know you can’t keep going back to him, right?” I asked, my voice steady.
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She looked down at her coffee, then back up at me with a weak smile. “Of course, I’m not planning to. I’ve made up my mind.”
I sighed and leaned closer. “He’s awful, Mom. He treated you terribly. He doesn’t change.”
“I know,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. I reached out and took her hand.
“I just want you to be happy. You deserve that, you know?”
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She squeezed my hand, her eyes watering. “Thank you, dear. It means a lot.”
I thought maybe my words got through to her. Maybe this time would be different. But when I came back from work that evening, the house was quiet. I called for her, but no answer.
Instead, a note sat on the table: “Your father apologized and bought me a new car. I realized I overreacted and went back. XX Mom.” I crumpled the note, tossing it into the trash. How foolish I’d been to hope.
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Sandy’s words pulled me out of my thoughts. “You should understand your mom better than anyone,” she said. “You left Robert, and that was hard. But you did it.”
I shrugged. “Yeah, it was hard. But I knew I had to.” She lifted her glass, her eyes warm.
“Well, I think you’re strong as hell. Cheers to that.”
I laughed and raised my glass. “Cheers.”
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The next morning, I woke up late. My alarm didn’t go off, or maybe I just slept through it. Either way, I was rushing around, trying to get dressed, find my keys, and grab my bag all at once.
My hair was a mess, and I could barely think straight. I could already tell it was going to be one of those days where nothing goes right. As I tried to slip on my shoes, I heard the doorbell. I glanced at the clock.
I didn’t have time for this. “Damn it,” I muttered, frustrated. I opened the door and froze. There stood my mom, holding a suitcase, her face serious.
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I didn’t mean to sound harsh, but the words slipped out. “What did Dad do this time?!”
She didn’t flinch. She didn’t look away. Her eyes stayed locked on mine, and she said, “He died.”
For a moment, everything around me just stopped. I couldn’t breathe or think. My mind went completely blank, like a switch had been turned off. I tried to say something, anything, but no words came out.
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After hearing the news, I called my boss and said I needed the day off. There wasn’t much I could explain, so I just told him there was a family emergency. My mom and I got in the car and drove back to my childhood home.
When we arrived, I walked into my old bedroom and felt a rush of memories. Everything was the same—the posters on the wall, the faded bedspread, even the little figurines on the shelf. It was like stepping back in time, and for a moment, I felt like I was a teenager again.
On the morning of the funeral, I woke up to loud music blasting through the house. I groaned, pulled the pillow over my head, but Mom just turned it up louder, filling every corner of the house.
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“Mom! Turn it off!” I shouted, my voice barely cutting through the blaring music.
“What?!” she yelled back from somewhere down the hall. “Hold on, I can’t hear you!”
A moment later, the music stopped, and I heard her footsteps. She appeared in my doorway, looking calm, like it was just a regular morning. “What were you saying?” she asked, tilting her head.
“Why is the music so loud?” I asked, trying to keep my voice steady. “It’s too early for this.”
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She shrugged, a small smile on her face. “This song makes me happy,” she said, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.
I stared at her. “You’re not supposed to feel happy today. It’s the funeral.”
She looked at me, still smiling. “Why not? You should feel happy every day, no matter what’s happening.”
I sighed, rubbing my temples. “Besides, this song is like 20 years old. Nobody listens to it anymore.”
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She raised an eyebrow. “You used to love it,” she said. “I remember you dancing around your room, singing every word.”
“Yeah,” I replied, “and then I got sick of it, like everyone else.”
She paused for a moment. “I don’t know. When I love something, I love it forever,” she said softly, then turned and walked out. A few seconds later, the music started up again, just as loud.
After greeting everyone at the church, shaking hands, and hearing the same phrases—”I’m so sorry for your loss,” “He was a good man”—I felt drained. It was like I was on autopilot, just nodding and thanking people without really thinking.
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I needed a break, so I slipped away to a small, quiet room at the back of the church. I was hoping to be alone for a minute, but when I walked in, Mom was already there, sitting by the window. She looked up and smiled, her eyes tired but calm.
“I don’t like funerals either,” Mom said, staring out the window.
I just scoffed, feeling a bitter laugh rise in my throat. “Yeah, well, we’re stuck here.”
She turned back to me. “Did you prepare your speech?” she asked, her tone gentle.
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I shook my head. “I’m not saying anything. I don’t have anything good to say about him.”
Mom’s face softened, like she was trying to understand. “Why not? He was a good father and a wonderful husband.”
I stared at her, stunned. “You’ve got to be kidding me. Are we talking about the same person?”
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She looked confused. “Why do you hate him so much?” she asked, almost like she truly didn’t understand. “I never got it.”
“Why? Do you really want to know?” I felt something snap inside, and the words just came pouring out. “When I was 13, you went on a business trip, and my friend stayed over. We heard noises from your bedroom. We thought someone was hurt, so we went to check…”
“…And there he was, in bed with Mrs. Brown, our neighbor. I just screamed and ran out of the house. And when I came back, he didn’t say a word to me. He pretended like it never happened, like I didn’t see it. That’s why I hated him. And I still hate him,” I said, my voice trembling.
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Mom’s eyes softened. “I know.”
“You don’t know how I feel!” I shouted, tears welling up.
“I mean, I know about the affairs,” she said, her voice calm.
“You knew?” I asked, shocked. “And you did nothing?”
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“Of course I knew,” she said softly.
“Then I hate you too,” I said, my voice cold. I turned to leave, but her voice stopped me.
“I’m sorry, Amalia,” Mom said. “I’m sorry I wasn’t strong like you. I was scared to leave him. I didn’t know how to do it for good.”
“You think I wasn’t scared when I left Robert? I was terrified,” I said, my voice shaking a little. “But I did it because I knew I had to. And you know what? It was hard, but eventually, it felt… freeing.”
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“I’m glad to hear that. I never liked Robert, you know. When you left him, I was so proud. You knew you deserved better. But it wasn’t the same for me. When I love something, I love it forever. And I loved your father.” I stared at her, confused.
“Even after he treated you that way?”
She nodded. “He wasn’t perfect. I never needed him to be. He had flaws, and some were really big ones. But he always came back.”
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I frowned, trying to understand.
She sighed, her eyes meeting mine. “Honestly, I’m glad to hear you hate me. Because all this time, I thought you didn’t care. And between hate and indifference, I’d rather have your hate.”
I didn’t expect those words to hit me the way they did, but they did. For some reason, I found myself smiling a little. I glanced at the clock. “We need to go. People will be waiting.”
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Mom gently placed her hand on my back. “You know, your father loved two things most in life: expensive liquor and making you laugh. Maybe you can mention that in your speech, but… skip the first part,” she said, a small smile tugging at her lips.
I couldn’t help but laugh, a real, honest laugh, and for a moment, the tension lifted. We left the small room together, side by side, and I felt something shift inside me.
I glanced at Mom and realized she wasn’t just my mom—she was a person, with her own fears, flaws, and regrets. I had always seen her as someone who should be stronger, someone who should have known better. But in that moment, I understood she was just trying her best, like I was.
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If you enjoyed this story, read this one: While helping her mother, Sarah, move into a new house, Natalie stumbles upon an old photograph hidden in a box. It shows a young Sarah holding a newborn baby with a distinctive birthmark on its cheek. But Natalie never had a birthmark. Confused and unsettled, she realizes there’s a secret her mother has been hiding.
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ROBIN WILLIAMS’ SAN FRANCISCO MANSION: WHERE HIS SON TIED THE KNOT ON THE LATE ACTOR’S BIRTHDAY
Robin Williams passed away in 2014, leaving behind his children: Zelda, Zachary, and Cody. Robin and his ex-wife, Marsha Williams, raised their kids in their San Francisco home.
In 2019, on what would have been Robin’s 73rd birthday, his youngest son honored him by getting married on that special day.
Robin Williams was a beloved actor known for his incredible comedic talent. He starred in popular family films like “Aladdin,” “Jumanji,” “Happy Feet,” and “Night at the Museum.”
Robin died by suicide on August 11, 2014, at his home in Tiburon, California. He was born on July 21, 1951. At the time of his death, he was single and had been married three times. His children were Zelda (34), Zachary (41), and Cody (32).
Robin Williams married his first wife, Valerie Velardi, in 1978. They had a son, Zachary Williams, together. The couple divorced in 1988.
Robin then married Marsha Garces in April 1989. They had two children together: Zelda and Cody Williams.
In 2008, Marsha Garces filed for divorce from Robin Williams. She said they had irreconcilable differences. Marsha requested joint legal custody of their kids, with Robin having visitation rights and paying spousal support. She also asked the court to divide their property after figuring out all their assets.
During their marriage, Marsha and Robin Williams worked together on films like “Jakob the Liar,” “Patch Adams,” and “Mrs. Doubtfire.” After their divorce, Robin married Susan Schneider in 2011, but they divorced in 2014 and did not have any children together.
Robin and Marsha raised their kids, Zelda and Cody, in their San Francisco home, which was at the corner of Sea Cliff Avenue and El Camino Del Mar.
The beautiful San Francisco mansion, which Robin Williams and Marsha Garces renovated in the 1990s, is a large 10,600-square-foot property. Built in 1926, it has more than 20 rooms, including six bedrooms, five full bathrooms, and three half bathrooms.
The home offers stunning views of the Golden Gate Bridge, San Francisco Bay, Marin Headland, and the Pacific Ocean. It was listed for sale at $25 million in October 2023.
Steven Mavromihalis, who is handling the sale, mentioned that Robin and Marsha expanded the house while keeping the original, valuable materials from when it was built in 1926. They also added a movie theater and a grand foyer, which is a central and impressive part of the home leading to its elegant public spaces.
The outside of the property features stunning lawns, bushes, gardens, flowering plants, mature trees, and hedges that surround the entire estate. It includes several sitting areas with clear, open views, making it an ideal space for entertaining guests.
The home includes a four-car garage with both side-by-side and tandem parking options. Inside, the living room is spacious with wooden beams on the ceiling, a wood-burning fireplace, and a French door that opens to the terrace.
The house features a spectacular eat-in kitchen with plenty of counter space, triple sinks, and custom cabinets made from high-quality materials. Next to the kitchen is a butler’s pantry. There’s also a media entertainment room with a half bath that opens to the east lawn and an outdoor dining patio.
The primary suite is designed for peace and tranquility, offering views of the Pacific Ocean and the Golden Gate Bridge. It includes a spacious bath with a soaking tub and a separate walk-in shower. The suite also features a large dressing room and closet. On the upper level, you’ll find four bedrooms, two full bathrooms, and a home office.
The home includes several hidden safe rooms and a large, ventilated walk-in vault. On the garden level, you’ll find a sauna, a one-bedroom guest apartment, and a fitness center with a full bath. This level also features a wine cellar, a pantry, and plenty of storage closets.
Marsha shared her experience of living in the mansion with Robin. She mentioned that Robin enjoyed shopping for art, and since their home was so large, they bought modern and unique pieces to decorate it. Marsha mixed new, old, historic, and handmade items to create a beautiful and eclectic look for the house.
Robin had a love for toys, so their home was filled with various toy collections. Additionally, some items in the house were particularly special because Marsha and Robin would give each other art pieces as gifts on special occasions like birthdays.
In 2019, Robin Williams’ youngest son paid tribute to his father by getting married at the same San Francisco mansion where Robin and Marsha had raised him.
Robin Williams was very proud of his kids, but he didn’t think of himself as a perfect father. He saw himself as a dad who was always learning and loving his children.
Zachary, his oldest son, graduated from New York University with a degree in rhetoric and followed his dreams to become an actor and director. Zelda, his daughter, made a name for herself in horror movies. Robin described his youngest son, Cody, as “kind but brilliant” and also as an actor.
Robin’s children continue to make him proud, even though he is no longer here. They have each made their own way in the entertainment world as actors and directors. They also make an effort to honor and remember their dad on their special occasions.
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