I never liked my mother-in-law. I kept my distance, barely spoke, and honestly, I carried myself with a rudeness I can’t defend. When I was pregnant, she would send me hot, freshly cooked meals. I brushed them aside, never showing care or gratitude.
Then came the day my baby was born, and she moved in to help. I wasn’t happy about it at first. Yet, quietly, she did everything—she cooked, cared for me, and held my child with a love so pure it startled me. For the first time in my life, I saw what a mother’s love truly looked like.
One evening, overwhelmed, I walked up to her and wrapped her in the tightest hug. With tears running down, I whispered, “Can I call you Mom? I’m sorry for how I treated you.”
Now she lives with us, and as my son grows, I find myself caring for her the way a daughter would. Life has a strange way of teaching us—sometimes the family we resist turns out to be the one who heals us.
Credit – original owner ( respect 🫡)