Some people live, and some just wait.
My lonely old neighbor, Vincent, was the latter kind.
He would sit in his wheelchair every day, staring at the road like he was waiting for something that never came.
He never smiled or spoke more than a word… until the moment our worlds collided.
Do you ever sit in your car after dropping the kids off at school and just… stare?
Like the weight of everything — bills, laundry, dinner, and life — is sitting right there on your chest, daring you to do something about it?
I had one of those moments one morning.
I was just sitting, gripping the steering wheel, wondering, “What’s the point of anything when you feel like you’re just… surviving?”
I shook it off. Because that’s what moms do. We shake it off, push through, and keep moving.
But that day, for some reason, my mind drifted back to a man who once reminded me that life DOES have a purpose. That even when you feel invisible, you matter.
His name was Vincent, the man who NEVER SMILED.
When my dad died, I packed up my life and moved into his old house with my two boys, Ashton and Adam — 12 and 14, all lanky limbs and always naughty. It wasn’t much, but it was ours.
The story doesn’t end here — it continues on the next page. Tap READ MORE to discover the rest 🔎👇
