My name is Rebecca, and two years ago, my world ended when I lost my five-year-old son, Caleb, in a terrible accident. The only things I had left of him were his precious belongings, which I kept in a cedar chest. My controlling and cruel mother-in-law, Lorraine, constantly told me to “move on” and get rid of his things.
One day, I came home to find his cedar chest was gone. I ran outside and found his clothes, his tiny sneakers, and his drawings stuffed into a trash bag in our dumpster, stained with coffee grounds and trash. Just then, Lorraine walked in, smugly admitting she had tossed them, calling his belongings “garbage” and saying I’d thank her later. My husband, Ethan, was furious, but my grief turned into a quiet, patient rage.
I began to plan my revenge. I bought a nanny cam, and I also noticed that Caleb’s silver bracelet was missing. Weeks later, I saw Lorraine wearing a new bracelet at a family barbecue. My suspicion growing, I tracked down a pawn shop owner who confirmed she had sold my dead son’s jewelry.
After weeks of letting her believe she had won, I invited the whole family over for dinner. Halfway through the meal, I calmly stood up and revealed a nanny cam, playing the footage of her taking the cedar chest. I then slid the pawn shop receipt across the table, exposing her for selling my son’s bracelet for a few dollars. My family members were shocked and disgusted.
But I wasn’t done. I pulled out a digital recorder and played a recording of my son’s voice, saying, “Goodnight, Mommy. I love you to the moon and back.” His sweet voice filled the silent room. I looked at her and said she could throw away his clothes and pawn his jewelry, but she could never erase him. My MIL was speechless and stumbled out of the house. Now, my husband hasn’t spoken to his mother since, and for the first time, I feel like my son’s memory is safe from her poison.