I Found My Late Mother’s Diary and It Made Me Regret My Whole Life

As I could remember, my mother’s insatiable greed and frugality cast a long, dark shadow over my childhood.

It made no sense because we weren’t a poor family — in fact, we were far from that. My parents both earned more than enough to provide a comfortable life. My father, Henry, was a regional manager for a popular retail store. And my mother, Lydia, was a nurse. We were fine.

For illustrative purpose only. (Source: Pexels)
However, my mother always seemed obsessed with saving money. Her relentless penny-pinching made me resent her deeply. I couldn’t understand why she was so strict, especially when Dad and I wanted to enjoy simple pleasures.

Dad was kind, understanding, and always had time for me. He was my favorite person in the world. His tragic de:ath in a car acci:dent when I was seventeen shattered me. Losing him felt like losing the only person who truly understood me.

After Dad’s passing, my relationship with Mom deteriorated even further. I blamed her for everything — her coldness, her stinginess, and now, for taking Dad away from me.

Our fragile relationship couldn’t handle anything else. But then, everything changed when Mom drained my college fund.

I had worked so hard, maintained good grades and secured a partial scholarship. The rest of the expenses were supposed to come from the fund my parents had diligently saved for years. When I found out it was gone, I was livid.

“How could you?” I screamed at her. “How could you take away my future?”

For illustrative purpose only. (Source: Pexels)
She didn’t say much, just looked at me with those weary eyes, her face etched with lines of stress and sorrow. “It wasn’t what you think,” she murmured, but I didn’t want to hear her excuses. I stormed out, vowing never to forgive her.

Years were over, and I distanced myself from Mom. I managed to put myself through college, working multiple jobs and scraping by. I built a life for myself, but the resentment toward my mother never faded.

It wasn’t until after mom die:d that I found the truth. Cleaning out her house, I stumbled upon an old, worn-out diary tucked away in a drawer. Curious, I started reading.