For weeks, my wife disappeared every night after dinner, saying she needed to be “alone.” I assumed she just needed space—until one night, I followed her.
I feared the worst. We had a strained few months after my job demotion, and Teresa had seemed distant, secretive—even haunted. I imagined she was having an affair. But what I discovered broke me in a completely different way.
She wasn’t seeing another man. She was visiting Evelyn, an elderly woman who lived alone in a rundown cottage. Teresa had met her by chance and, seeing her loneliness and struggle, started bringing her food and company. She was using small amounts from our emergency fund to help—too scared to burden me further.
I was ashamed. While I let doubt and fear consume me, Teresa had quietly become someone’s lifeline.
Since that night, everything changed. Evelyn became part of our family. We visit her together now—me, Teresa, and our kids. And we’ve made it our mission to help other seniors like her in the neighborhood.
That night taught me that love is about showing up—even when it’s hard—and that trust means asking, not assuming. I almost lost sight of the woman I married, but instead, I found her all over again.
Now, when Teresa says she’s going for a walk, it ends with: “Who wants to visit Grandma Evelyn?”
And we all do.