My story begins badly but concludes on a somewhat positive tone. It’s all about my Gran-Gran, who is the sweetest lady alive. This amazing woman virtually raised me, Sandra, and my brothers when our parents were divorcing.
To show her love, Gran-Gran planned her own 83rd birthday brunch despite her deteriorating health. She sent handmade invitations, baked her own bread, and prepared everything herself. Her effort was motivation enough for me to attend, but I arrived ten minutes late due to work.
When I arrived, I found her cleaning up, pouring coffee down the sink. Confused, I asked, “Gran-Gran, did I get the time wrong? What happened? Where is everyone?” She admitted with teary eyes, “Sany, you aren’t too late, no one bothered showing up. But it’s okay, sweetheart. I know everyone is busy.”
My heart broke. Everyone had promised to be there, but none showed up. Determined to make it right, I hugged her, then went outside to make some phone calls. I lied to my family, saying Gran-Gran had fallen and was in the hospital. I guilted them into sending money for fake hospital bills.
I called my mom, brother, sister, and other relatives, each feeling guilty and sending money. Soon, I had collected enough for a special surprise. The next morning, I booked a trip for Gran-Gran and me to her dream destination. I surprised her with the tickets, and we spent a wonderful week at a beach resort.
I shared photos of our trip on social media, tagging family members with captions like “Best birthday ever!” They were furious, but I felt satisfaction. They had let her down, and they needed to understand the consequences.
When we returned, Gran-Gran was glowing. She hadn’t stopped smiling. My family never missed another event, but they still gave me the cold shoulder. Whenever they tried to make me feel guilty, I asked, “Do you want to discuss this with Grandma?” That usually shut them up.
In the end, every time I saw Gran-Gran’s happy face, I knew it had all been worth it.
