Erin and Mike got married at 20 and had the best marriage anyone could want. But at 76 years old, Mike realized they were too old for all that romance, mainly because it was one-sided. Erin was heartbroken and asked for a divorce, but a shocking event happened.
“I don’t understand why you don’t bring me flowers anymore,” Erin whined to her husband, Mike, one day. After 56 years of marriage, her husband had suddenly stopped being romantic, something that had made their relationship the envy of everyone they knew.
“Erin, you are not going to die if I don’t bring flowers every day,” Mike answered from his place on the couch, his hand grabbing the remote control to flip a channel.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels
Erin was displeased. “But that’s not fair. For the past month, you’ve stopped every single romantic gesture. What’s happening? Are you having an affair? AT OUR AGE?” she exclaimed in outrage, placing her hands on her waist.
“For God’s sake, Erin. It’s been decades since we got married, and I’ve given you something every day since. But I stop for a while and suddenly I’m cheating on you? Are you crazy?” Mike asked, focusing on his wife.
“I JUST DON’T UNDERSTAND! DON’T YOU LOVE ME ANYMORE?” Erin yelled.
Mike stood up from the couch at that question and looked at his wife seriously. “Maybe I’m tired of being the only one making some sort of romantic gesture!” he blurted. “56 years, Erin! For 56 years, I was the only one expressing any kind of romance. I invite you on dates. I buy flowers. I buy gifts. I do EVERYTHING! And you simply take everything and give nothing back!”
Erin’s mouth dropped at her husband’s words, but Mike didn’t stick around to see it and went out for a walk to cool down.
Meanwhile, she slumped on the kitchen table and thought back to their marriage. Mike was not entirely wrong. She never asked him on dates or bought him much. Erin could excuse her behavior, saying that they were born in a different time, where the men made all the effort in the romance aspect. But that was a cheap cop-out.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels
Erin thought maintaining their home, cooking, and raising their children was enough. But their kids had moved away many years ago. She still cleaned and cooked, but clearly, her husband had all the pressure of keeping their spark alive. That was unfair to him, so Erin decided to change a few things.
When Mike returned, she asked him on a date and was going to pay. However, her husband refused.
“I don’t want to do that right now,” he said, going to their room and barely speaking to her that night.
Fair enough, Erin thought. Mike was angry at her, but she could be patient and wait for his anger to subside.
Unfortunately, nothing she did appeased him. Mike would not accept her tries at romantic gestures and grew angry every time she insisted. Erin bought him some flowers at one point, and he frowned at them.
“These are more for you, right?” Mike asked, still frowning and quirking one eyebrow. “You don’t have to keep doing these things, Erin. We are already too old for this.”
“What do you mean? I’m trying to give back what I haven’t in 56 years. Why can’t you accept it?” Erin snapped back, raising her hands at her sides. She was completely confused by his attitude now. Wasn’t this was he asked for?
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels
“Because this is not what I wanted. I just want us to relax and stop trying so hard. We’re old. We’ve had more than enough romance in our lives. Now, it’s time to just… be,” Mike replied, giving her the flowers back and going to the porch for a smoke.
Erin looked at him sitting outside, and her heart broke. She couldn’t deal with it. She didn’t understand why he suddenly didn’t want any romance. Is there an expiration date for love? Erin thought glumly, walking back to her room.
She tried to make this new arrangement work, but it was hard. Mike didn’t kiss or hug her as often. Suddenly, she was also shy around him. That had not happened in half a century. Two months passed since then, and it simply wasn’t working.
Therefore, Erin asked him for a divorce. She couldn’t live with someone she didn’t love.
Mike was shocked but agreed to move while Erin stayed in their house. Their son, Henry, took him in, although this new arrangement concerned the rest of their children. Their two daughters, Alexandra and Marissa, tried to change Erin’s mind, but their mother was determined.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels
“If the romance is over, there’s no reason to be married,” she told her girls stubbornly. Shortly after, Erin filed for divorce, and a few months later, it was finalized.
Mike was still at Henry’s house when the landline rang. Henry’s wife answered and suddenly exclaimed, “What?!”
The older man looked up from his novel, focusing on his son’s wife, as she turned to look at him with the most concerned expression on her face. “Ok, we’ll be right there,” she said to the phone and hung up. “Mike, we have to go to the hospital. Erin just had a heart attack!”
Mike’s eyes widened in surprise before he went into action. He rushed to his jacket, throwing his book and reading glasses away.
When they reached the hospital, the doctor explained that Erin was alright but couldn’t move much. Mike sat down beside her and never left. He hand-fed her and kept her company. When she was discharged, he refused to leave their house, claiming that he was there to help.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels
But Henry, Marissa, and Alexandra knew the truth. Their dad was back home because he loved their mother and never stopped despite the divorce. Soon enough, the flowers and the romantic gestures kept coming again.
And when Erin got better, she returned the gestures so that Mike would never feel slighted ever again. They rekindled their romance and remarried on what would’ve been their original 58th anniversary.
What can we learn from this story?
- Reciprocation is essential in any relationship. Both partners must work hard to maintain a relationship.
- Find out your spouse’s love language. Some people love giving gifts, and others prefer acts of service. It’s crucial to find out what your partner likes before creating problems.
Share this story with your friends. It might brighten their day and inspire them.
On My Way to Work, I Found an Elderly Woman Almost Frozen in a Snowdrift Near My House – What She Gave Me Changed Everything
On a frozen January morning, Amy found an elderly woman lying motionless in the snow near her driveway. Against her better judgment, she chose to help instead of walking away. What seemed like a chance encounter set off a chain of unimaginable events that changed Amy’s life forever.
The first week of January is always unforgiving — icy winds that sting your face in the dead of winter, snow that piles up faster than you can shovel, and mornings so silent they almost feel eerie. That day was no exception. I was trudging toward my car, dreading another routine day at work when something strange caught my eye.
At the edge of my driveway, near the snowdrift, lay a slumped figure. At first, I thought it was trash blown in from somewhere, but the shape was disturbingly human. My heart began to race.
A startled young woman standing outside her house | Source: Midjourney
“Hey!” I called out hesitantly, taking slow steps forward. “Are you okay?”
The figure didn’t move.
Just then, my neighbor, Mr. Lewis, came around the corner with his dog. He stopped and squinted at the scene. “What’s this about?”
“I think… it’s a person,” I said.
Mr. Lewis sighed, pulling his muffler tighter. “Probably just some drunk or a vagrant. Best to leave it be or call the cops. People like that bring their own trouble.”
“How can you be so callous?” I shot back angrily. “That’s a human being lying there in the snow! What if it was your loved one out here, freezing to death while people walked by?”
A confused woman looking at someone | Source: Midjourney
“Your call, Amy,” he muttered, tugging his dog away. “Don’t come crying to me when this turns ugly.”
I ignored him, my instincts screaming otherwise. As I stepped closer, the figure stirred slightly. It was an elderly woman, her face pale and her lips nearly blue. Her damp hair clung to her face, and her thin coat was no match for the freezing cold.
“Ma’am?” I crouched down, panicking as I reached for my phone. “Can you hear me? Please, just give me a sign you’re alive! Dear God, please let her be alive!”
Her eyes fluttered open, and she whispered something faintly. “No… don’t… there’s a… a note for you.”
“A note? For me?” I asked, confused.
An older person lying on the snow on a chill morning | Source: Midjourney
With a trembling hand, she pointed toward her coat pocket. “Please…” she whimpered. “Before it’s too late… I must tell you… must make it right…”
I hesitated but reached in and pulled out a weathered envelope. My name — AMY — was scrawled on it in shaky handwriting. My breath caught in my throat.
“Ma’am, how do you know my name?” I asked, but her head slumped forward, and she went still. “No, no, no! Stay with me! Please stay with me!”
My hands fumbled as I dialed 911. Within minutes, an ambulance arrived, and paramedics carried her away on a stretcher.
An ambulance on the road | Source: Pexels
“You did more than I would’ve,” Mr. Lewis muttered, shaking his head. “Probably best not to get too involved.”
“Is that what your mother taught you?” I snapped, tears of frustration forming in my eyes. “To walk away when someone needs help? To turn your back on another person’s suffering?”
He flinched as if I’d slapped him, a flash of shame crossing his face. “My mother… she would have stopped,” he whispered, almost to himself. “She would have helped.”
I didn’t respond further. My focus was on the envelope. I tore it open with trembling fingers, my stomach twisting in knots.
The message inside was short, but it sent my heart racing:
“Amy, your real grandmother left you $500,000 inheritance. Arrive at this address. Hurry up…”
A shocked woman holding a piece of paper | Source: Midjourney
I stared at the paper, my mind swirling. Real grandmother? I’d been told my grandmother had passed away long before I was born. Is this some sort of scam? A cruel joke?
“This can’t be real,” I whispered to myself, reading the note over and over.
The woman’s frail figure haunted me all day. By evening, I couldn’t take it anymore. I decided to visit her in the hospital.
When I entered her hospital room, she was awake, her frail body propped up against some pillows. Her sunken eyes softened when she saw me.
“You came,” she whispered. “I was so afraid you wouldn’t —”
“Of course I did,” I replied, pulling up a chair. “Who are you? And how do you know my name? Why were you out there in the freezing cold looking for me?”
An older woman lying in a hospital bed | Source: Midjourney
Her hands trembled as she reached for mine. “I owe you an explanation, Amy. It’s time you knew the truth. The truth I’ve been too cowardly to face for 28 years.”
“The truth about what?”
“I’m your grandmother. Your REAL GRANDMOTHER.”
I blinked, her words hanging heavy in the air. “That’s not possible. My grandmother died before I was born.”
A puzzled woman standing in a hospital ward | Source: Midjourney
She shook her head, tears streaming down her face. “That’s what your mother wanted you to believe. But it’s not true. I’m alive… and I’ve been living with this guilt every single day.”
“No,” I stood up, backing away from the bed. “My mother wouldn’t lie to me. Not about something like this. She used to tell me everything… we shared everything until her last breath!”
“She did it to protect you,” the woman pleaded, reaching out. “To shield you from my cruelty. From the heartless woman who threw away her own daughter’s happiness for the sake of pride.”
“Stop it!” I cried, pressing my hands against my ears. “This isn’t real. This can’t be real!”
She gestured weakly to the chair beside her bed. “Please, sit down, Amy. There’s something you need to know.”
I sank into the chair, my heart pounding.
A sick older lady in a hospital ward | Source: Midjourney
“Your mother,” she began, “she was my pride and joy. Top of her class at university, studying business and economics. Everything I’d dreamed for her…” She paused, dabbing at her eyes. “Then one day, she came home absolutely glowing. She’d met someone — your father. But I didn’t like him.”
“What was wrong with my dad?” I asked.
A look of shame crossed her face. “Nothing. Nothing at all, except in my foolish mind. He was a carpenter, you see. Worked with his hands, and lived paycheck to paycheck. But the way your mother’s eyes lit up when she talked about him…” She shook her head. “Your father had such a beautiful heart. Always helping others, and always ready with a kind word or deed.”
“So why?” I whispered. “Why did you disapprove?”
A carpenter at work | Source: Pexels
“Because I was blind. When your mother told me she was pregnant, I exploded. ‘You’re throwing your life away!’ I screamed at her. ‘Everything we’ve worked for, everything we’ve planned!’” Her hands twisted in the hospital blanket. “I can still see her face, standing there in our living room, one hand protectively over her stomach… over you.”
“She had so much potential. I gave her an ultimatum: leave him and inherit the family business, or walk away with nothing. She chose him. She chose you.”
I clenched my fists, anger rising in my chest. “And you just let her go? You didn’t even try to fix it? Your own daughter, carrying your grandchild, and you just… threw her away?”
Grayscale shot of a pregnant woman on the road | Source: Midjourney
“I was stubborn. And proud. By the time I realized my mistake, it was too late. Your mother passed away when you were 15 years old. But I never stopped watching. I followed your life from a distance — your milestones, your achievements, and your wedding day. I was a coward, Amy. Too ashamed to face you or tell you that I was your grandmother.”
“You were there?” I gasped, tears flowing freely now. “At my wedding?”
“Back row, hat pulled low,” she smiled sadly. “You were so beautiful. Just like your mother on her wedding day. The day I refused to attend. I watched you dance with your father, saw how he looked at you with such pride and love… and I realized what a fool I’d been. Love isn’t about status or money. It’s about moments like that.”
“Did you… did you really come for me that day?” I asked.
An emotional woman | Source: Midjourney
“Yes. You were radiant, just like your mom at her wedding.”
She explained how she had fallen ill recently and didn’t have much time left. “I wanted to make amends before it’s too late,” she said. “That’s why I came to your house, disguised as a stranger. My car broke down, and I walked the rest of the way. But the cold… guess I fainted from exhaustion.”
“You could have died!” I burst out. “All this time… why wait until now? Why put yourself through this? You didn’t even show up for Mom’s funeral. Why?”
“Because pride is a poison that kills slowly,” she whispered, tears rolling down her weathered cheeks. “And fear is its faithful companion. I’ve been dying inside for years, watching from afar, and too scared to reach out. But now that I’m really dying. And I couldn’t bear to take these secrets to my grave.”
A distressed older woman | Source: Midjourney
Her voice trailed off as tears filled her eyes. She reached for the side table and handed me another envelope. “Everything I have is yours now. It’s not enough to make up for what I’ve done, but it’s all I can give.”
I opened the envelope with trembling hands. Inside were deeds, bank account information, and a letter transferring ownership of her entire estate to me.
“Why are you doing this? Money can’t fix what happened. It can’t buy back all those lost years.”
“Because your mother deserved better. And so do you.” She gripped my hand tightly. “Because love shouldn’t come with conditions, and I learned that lesson far too late. The money… it’s not to buy forgiveness. It’s to give you the chances I denied your mother. To help you build the life she fought so hard to give you.”
A woman reading an official document | Source: Midjourney
The next few weeks were a blur. I spent countless nights replaying my grandmother’s words, wrestling with emotions I couldn’t name. Anger. Grief. Guilt. Gratitude.
When she passed away not long after, I attended her funeral with my dad. The church was nearly empty, a testament to the bridges she’d burned. As I stood there, a familiar figure appeared beside me.
“I’m sorry about what I said that morning,” Mr. Lewis murmured. “About leaving her in the snow. Sometimes we forget our humanity in the coldest moments. My mother would be ashamed of what I’ve become.”
“It’s never too late to change,” I whispered, squeezing his hand. “Never too late to thaw a frozen heart.”
Men carrying a coffin | Source: Pexels
I clutched the letter my grandmother had written for me, her final words etched into my heart:
“Amy, I can never undo the damage I caused. But I hope, in some small way, I’ve given you a chance for something better. Your mother was the bravest woman I ever knew, and you are every bit her daughter. Make her proud.”
In the end, I used the inheritance to honor both of them. I set up a scholarship fund in my mother’s name for young women trying to stay in school. I donated a portion to women’s shelters. And with the rest, I bought a modest house — the first real home I’d ever owned.
The day I moved in with my husband, I found my dad sitting alone on my new porch, tears in his eyes.
A sad man sitting on the porch | Source: Midjourney
“I should have told you the truth,” he whispered as I sat beside him. “About her, about everything. I was so focused on protecting you that I didn’t realize you were strong enough to handle it.”
“You protected me,” I said, taking his hand. “Just like Mom always had. Like she did when she chose love over money all those years ago.”
“She was right about one thing,” my dad smiled through his tears. “Love shouldn’t come with conditions. And you, my beautiful daughter, you’ve proven that by turning your grandmother’s final gift into something that will help others. You’ve broken the cycle.”
Sometimes, life hands you a story you’d never expect — like a frozen morning, a mysterious note in a stranger’s pocket, and a family secret buried under years of regret. But in the end, love finds its way through the cracks.
A woman smiling | Source: Midjourney
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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