Am I wrong For Being Hurt That My 70-year-old Parents Are Moving To Europe Instead Of Staying To Be The Babysitters We Could Rely On?
Emma sat at the kitchen table, her fingers clenched around her coffee mug as she reread the message from her parents. They were leaving. Not for a vacation, not for a few months, but indefinitely.
She had known they were considering retiring abroad, but she never thought they’d actually go through with it. Not when she and her husband still relied on them so much for childcare. Not when their grandchildren adored them. Not when their family was here.
She felt abandoned. Left behind. Hurt.
Her husband, Daniel, placed a gentle hand on her shoulder. “Emma, we’ll figure something out. It’s not the end of the world.”
She pulled away slightly, frustration bubbling up. “That’s easy for you to say. You’re not the one who has to reorganize everything. Who’s going to pick up the kids when we both have meetings? What about sick days? School breaks? Do you know how expensive full-time childcare is?”
Daniel sighed. “I get it, Em. I do. But… don’t they deserve this?”
Emma’s jaw clenched. “What about us? Don’t we deserve their help? We’ve always been close. They’ve always been there for us. And now they’re just… leaving.”
A week later, Emma sat across from her parents at their favorite cafe, a place filled with so many memories. She hadn’t seen them since the news broke, and the tension was palpable.
Her mother, Margaret, reached for her hand, but Emma pulled back slightly. Her father, Robert, sighed, setting his coffee down. “Sweetheart, we know you’re upset.”
“Upset?” Emma let out a dry laugh. “I feel abandoned.”
Margaret’s face fell. “Oh, Emma…”
“You’ve always been there for me,” Emma continued, her voice thick with emotion. “For all of us. And now you’re leaving us to sip wine in France?”
Robert exhaled, shaking his head. “Emma, honey, we’ve given our whole lives to this family. We love you all so much, but we’re getting older. If we don’t do this now, we never will.”
“But we need you,” Emma whispered, her voice breaking.
Margaret reached for her hand again, this time squeezing it tightly. “We have always been here for you, and we always will be. Just… not in the way we used to be.”
Emma swallowed the lump in her throat. “I just don’t understand. How can you leave your grandkids?”
Margaret smiled sadly. “We’re not leaving them. We’ll visit, we’ll call. And they’ll get to visit us too. Imagine how wonderful it will be for them to experience different cultures, to make memories in beautiful places.”
Robert leaned forward. “Emma, you’re an amazing mother. But it’s not our job to raise your kids. We raised ours.”
Emma’s breath hitched. The truth in his words stung. They weren’t wrong. They had given so much. Was it selfish to want more from them?
Margaret squeezed her hand again. “You are strong, Em. You and Daniel will figure it out. And we’ll always be here for you, just in a different way.”
A few months later, Emma stood at the airport with her children. The reality of the moment hit her as she watched her parents prepare to board their flight. She had fought against it, resisted, but in the end, she had to let them go.
Her youngest, Sophie, clung to her grandmother. “Do you have to go, Nana?”
Margaret knelt down, brushing a strand of hair from Sophie’s face. “It’s not goodbye, sweetheart. It’s see you soon.”
Emma watched as her parents hugged each of the children, promising visits, video calls, and summer trips to Europe. She still felt the ache in her chest, but she also saw something she hadn’t before—her parents were happy. Truly happy.
As they walked toward security, her father turned back one last time. “We love you, Em.”
Emma blinked away the tears and nodded. “I love you too.”
She still wasn’t sure how they would manage everything without them, but as she looked at her children, she knew they would. They always did. And maybe, just maybe, her parents weren’t leaving them behind. Maybe they were just teaching her one last lesson—that sometimes, choosing yourself doesn’t mean abandoning the people you love.
And in that, she found a sense of peace.
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Other story:
Sarah stood in her kitchen, phone clutched tightly in her hand, as her mother’s words echoed in her ears. “We’re moving to Europe.”
She blinked, stunned. “What?”
Her mother’s voice was calm but firm. “Your father and I have decided it’s time to follow our dreams. We’re retiring somewhere warm and peaceful.”
Sarah swallowed the lump rising in her throat. “But what about us? What about the kids? We rely on you.”
A sigh came from the other end of the line. “Sweetheart, we love you all. But we have spent our whole lives taking care of others. It’s time we do something for ourselves.”
Tears welled in Sarah’s eyes. She had never imagined a world where her parents weren’t just a short drive away. They had been her safety net, her unwavering support system. The thought of them leaving felt like abandonment.
After the call ended, Sarah sat at the kitchen table, staring blankly at the pile of bills and the calendar covered in work meetings and school activities. Her husband, Mark, walked in, noticing her expression.
“What’s wrong?” he asked, setting down his coffee.
“My parents are leaving. They’re moving to Europe.”
Mark raised an eyebrow. “Wait, what?”
“They said they want to enjoy their retirement, to live for themselves.” She let out a bitter laugh. “I can’t believe they’d just up and leave.”
Mark sighed and pulled out a chair. “I get that it’s hard. But… can you blame them?”
Sarah shot him a look. “You’re taking their side?”
“I’m not taking sides. But think about it. They’ve spent their entire lives working, raising kids, helping us. Maybe they deserve this.”
Sarah folded her arms. “So what are we supposed to do? Childcare is expensive, and I can’t just quit my job.”
“We’ll figure it out,” Mark said gently. “It’s not ideal, but we can make adjustments. Maybe ask around, find a sitter, or see if we can alternate our schedules.”
Sarah huffed, her frustration boiling over. “That’s easy for you to say. You’re not the one juggling everything.”
Mark reached for her hand. “I know this is hard. But instead of focusing on what we’re losing, maybe we should think about what they’re gaining.”
Sarah’s lips trembled, and for the first time, she let herself imagine what this meant for her parents. She pictured them strolling along the Seine, her father taking photos of historic streets, her mother laughing over a plate of fresh pasta in a tiny Italian trattoria. They had spent their whole lives being responsible. Maybe they deserved this.
Still, the hurt lingered.
The following week, Sarah met her parents for coffee, trying to mask the lingering bitterness. But as she looked at them—her mother’s excited eyes, her father’s rare smile—she saw something she hadn’t noticed before: happiness. Not just contentment, but real, genuine joy.
“I just wish you had considered how this would affect us,” Sarah admitted.
Her mother reached for her hand. “We did. And it broke our hearts to think of leaving. But, sweetheart, we need to do this for ourselves.”
Her father nodded. “We’ll always be here for you. Just not in the same way.”
A tear slipped down Sarah’s cheek. “I don’t want to hold you back. I just—” she exhaled, “I just need to figure things out.”
“You will,” her mother assured her. “You always do.”
The day they left, Sarah watched her parents walk through the airport gates, hands intertwined. A part of her still felt abandoned, but another part—one she hadn’t expected—felt something else.
Hope.
As they disappeared from view, her phone buzzed. A text from her mom: “We love you. And we’ll always be just a call away.”
Sarah smiled through her tears. Maybe, just maybe, this wasn’t the end of something. Maybe it was a new beginning for all of them.