I Was Taken To The Hospital And Couldn’t Respond. The Doctors Called My Son, But He Said, “I’m Busy, I’m Taking My Wife To Dinner—She Needs Me Tonight.” Even After Being Told My Condition Was Serious. One Week Later, I Walked Out Of The Hospital And Made A Call To The Accounts Office. Two Hours Later, He Showed Up At My HOUSE IN A RUSH.

Michael’s mouth opened and closed, but no words came out. “I’ll tell you where you were,” I continued, my voice still maddeningly calm. “You were at Le Bernardine enjoying a $300 dinner while your mother lay dying in a hospital bed.”

“Mom, that’s not fair.

I didn’t know it was that serious.”

“The nurse told you they weren’t sure I’d make it through the night.”

“She was probably being dramatic. Nurses always exaggerate.”

I set down my teacup and looked at my son. Really looked at him.

When had he become this stranger? When had the little boy who used to crawl into my bed during thunderstorms turned into this cold, calculating man who thought dinner reservations were more important than his mother’s life? “Michael, let me ask you something.

When was the last time you visited me? Not when you needed something, not when you wanted money, but just to see how I was doing.”

He shifted uncomfortably. “I’ve been busy with the business.”

“It’s been 8 months.

8 months since you set foot in this house. Unless you needed something from me.”

“That’s not true.”

“It is true. The last time you were here was in February when you needed me to co-sign for Victoria’s new car loan.”

The memory clearly stung because he looked away.

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