My Husband Called to Say He Demolished My House, I Just Laughed

A Life Shattered and a Truth Revealed

Finally, I’m free from that burden. Starting today, my parents are moving in with me at my house.

When my parents passed away, my husband Scott demolished our family home and stood in front of its site. He blurted out:

“Hurry up and bring the inheritance to our place.”

I stood there in shock and asked:

“What are you talking about? Have you lost your mind?”

At his words, I couldn’t help but laugh. I realized what this was all about.

“Why are you laughing? Don’t you understand?”

Scott and my in-laws looked at me puzzled. That’s when I told them the truth.

My name is Amy Jackson. I was born the eldest daughter of ordinary office worker parents.

I have one brother, and we were a very normal family. I married Scott when I was 30, and we had two kids.

Balancing work and parenting, I suddenly found myself at 52. My son Eric and daughter Judy had grown up to be adults, each living on their own and starting their careers.

Now was the time to relax with my husband. It was an ordinary life, but I was happy.

I thought I would continue to age like this. But my simple life changed one winter day.

My father was in a car accident and suddenly passed away. He was only 68 at the time.

Our whole family was overwhelmed with grief. Especially my mother, who was so depressed she couldn’t even eat.

“Mom, Mom, I know it’s hard, but you have to eat,”

I told her again and again.

“I know, but I just don’t have the appetite. It feels like there’s something stuck in my chest,”

she replied.

My brother and I thought she was just emotionally distressed and watched her for a while. However, she rapidly lost weight in just three weeks.

Worried, I took her to the hospital. The diagnosis from the doctor was shocking: cancer.

The cancer was advanced, and surgery wasn’t an option. She had about a year left to live.

I hadn’t had the chance to really take care of my parents yet. When I thought I had lost my father, now my mother was facing this illness.

I was even more devastated than when my father passed. But I couldn’t grief forever.

My brother lived far away and couldn’t help, so it was up to me to take care of my mother. I told Scott that I wanted to live with my mother.

I couldn’t leave her alone both emotionally and physically during her illness. But Scott’s reaction surprised me.

“We just finished dealing with your dad’s funeral, and now I have to be dragged into more of your family’s issues,”

he said with a sigh, clearly annoyed.

“You don’t have to say it like that. Can’t you just drive her to the hospital and back?”

I asked.

“Do we really have to live with her?”

I think she might feel lonely if it’s not okay; maybe I can just live at my family home for a while, I suggested. Scott became indignant.

“And who’s going to take care of my meals while you’re gone?”

he demanded.

“I’ll come and cook, of course.”

I replied.

“What about cleaning? Who’s going to do the laundry?”

he demanded.

I fell silent. I intended to do what I could, but I couldn’t do everything as before.

Being confronted with this reality hurt. If someone said I was being selfish for wanting to care for my mother, I wouldn’t be able to argue back.

I’m sure my mother, being considerate, would say everything is fine as it is. But I really wanted to do something for my parents.

“Fine, but I’m not helping with anything, you hear?”

Scott grudgingly said to my silence.

His attitude was arrogant, but he had ultimately agreed. “I’m sorry, and thank you,”

I said.

Although I thought he was being awful, he had agreed to my wish. I suppressed my desire to argue back and thanked him.

Despite the trouble, Scott and I started living with my mother at my family home. We had originally been living in a house provided by Scott’s employer.

Scott was an only child, and since his father really wanted us to live together, we didn’t plan on buying our own home. We were going to eventually move in with Scott’s parents.

Living in the company housing was more convenient for work and the rent was only about $1,000 a month, so it wasn’t a big burden. But now that we’ve moved to my family home, we don’t have to pay that anymore and we have more space.