YT YouTube2Text

YouTube2Text → Transcripts → "Apologize or Get Out," My Daughter-in-Law Said at Sunday Dinner—So I Canceled Every Payment and...

"Apologize or Get Out," My Daughter-in-Law Said at Sunday Dinner—So I Canceled Every Payment and... — Transcript

by Core Tales · 4,514 words · 709 segments · language en · Watch on YouTube

Open in transcriber Summarize with AI Download SRT/VTT

Full transcript

0:00"Apologize right now, or get out."
0:03Hannah said it with one manicured finger
0:05pointed at my own front door, and my son
0:08sat 3 ft away, studying his pot roast
0:12like it held the answers to the
0:13universe.
0:14Let me back up, because that sentence
0:17only makes sense if you know whose
0:19dining room we were in. It was Hannah
0:22and Justin's house in Dublin, Ohio, a
0:25four-bedroom colonial with a three-car
0:27garage and a kitchen island the size of
0:30a pool table. The table we were eating
0:33at, solid oak, $1,200,
0:36I had bought for them as a housewarming
0:38gift. The house sat on a mortgage I had
0:41been paying half of for four
0:44years. I'm Paula Turner. I'm 68 years
0:48old, and until that Sunday, I believed
0:50that being useful and being loved were
0:52the same thing.
0:54Before we get into it, tell me where
0:56you're tuning in from. It means a lot to
0:59know who's keeping me company.
1:02Hannah's mother, Wanda, was there, too.
1:05She'd driven in from Cincinnati for the
1:07afternoon, and she sat at the far end of
1:10the table with her wine glass, watching
1:13the whole thing like it was a tennis
1:15match she had already bet on.
1:18The fight started over paint brushes.
1:21I'm a watercolorist, nothing fancy, just
1:24a retired art teacher who still sells a
1:26few pieces at the fall fair. After Wayne
1:29died, painting was what kept me upright.
1:32I own a set of Kolinsky sable brushes
1:35that cost more than my first car
1:37payment, and I keep them in a roll in my
1:39tote bag. Two Sundays earlier, I'd found
1:43my best number eight round in the
1:45backyard sandbox, bristles splayed and
1:48crusted with dirt. Isabella, who is six,
1:51had been using it to paint the patio
1:54with water. Her brother, Max, who is
1:56four, had been using another one as a
1:59shovel.
2:00So, at dinner I said, as gently as I
2:03knew how, "Hannah, could you remind the
2:05kids not to take brushes out of my bag
2:08when I'm babysitting? Those sables can't
2:11be replaced easily."
2:13I watched her face change. It didn't
2:15happen all at once. It was more like
2:18watching ice crack across a pond.
2:21"Wow," she said, "so now I'm a bad
2:23mother."
2:24"That isn't what I said."
2:27"It's what you meant."
2:28"You're always doing this, Paula. Always
2:31critiquing.
2:32The way I cook, the way I dress the
2:34kids, the way I load the dishwasher. You
2:37come in here like the inspector
2:39general."
2:40Wanda made a small sound into her wine.
2:43I think it was a laugh.
2:45I looked at Justin. He lifted his fork,
2:48set it down, and lowered his eyes.
2:51"Apologize," Hannah said, "right now, in
2:54front of everyone, or you can get out."
2:57Then came the pointing, the door, and
3:00the silence from the one person at that
3:02table who had once called me Mommy in
3:05the voice of a boy who believed I could
3:08fix anything.
3:09I didn't cry. I want to be clear about
3:12that, because people picture a scene
3:15with sobbing and slammed doors, and that
3:18is not what happened.
3:20What happened was stranger. Everything
3:22inside me went very still, like a house
3:26after the furnace shuts off. And in that
3:28quiet, I could suddenly hear the last 4
3:30years.
3:31I heard the check I wrote for the roof
3:33repair.
3:34I heard the Montessori tuition, $800 a
3:38month. I heard Hannah's SUV lease, 600.
3:42I heard the 1,400 a month toward the
3:45mortgage, which Justin had asked for the
3:48week after Wayne's funeral, when I was
3:50still sleeping in the guest room because
3:52our bed felt like a lake I drown in.
3:56"Justin till we get on our feet, Mom,"
3:58he'd said. Four years later, those feet
4:01had never touched the ground.
4:03Because I had been carrying them.
4:06I stood up. I smoothed my skirt and
4:08picked my purse off the chair.
4:11Where do you think you're going?
4:13Hannah laughed.
4:14You can't just walk away from this.
4:17I'm not apologizing for asking someone
4:20to respect my things, I said. Enjoy your
4:23dinner.
4:24Nobody followed me.
4:26I heard Wanda say, Well, and then the
4:29door clicked shut behind me and I stood
4:31in the driveway where I had parked my
4:33Buick beside the SUV I paid for under
4:37the porch light I had replaced last
4:39spring. My hands were steady on the
4:41wheel. I drove home slowly and somewhere
4:44around the Route 33 interchange, I
4:47understood that I was not angry.
4:49Anger would have been a relief.
4:52What I felt was clear, the way a window
4:54is clear after you finally scrub it.
4:58I had been their ATM, a very polite ATM
5:01with a casserole dish. And an ATM can
5:03simply be turned off.
5:05The next morning I sat at my kitchen
5:07table with black coffee and my laptop.
5:11Wayne's chair sat across from me the way
5:13it always does, empty and patient. I
5:16logged in to the credit union and opened
5:19the scheduled transfers.
5:21The 1400 to Justin and Hannah's mortgage
5:24servicer, cancel.
5:27The 600 toward the SUV lease, cancel.
5:30The 800 to Little Acorn Montessori,
5:33cancel.
5:35The 300 a month I'd been sending to
5:37Hannah's grocery card,
5:39cancel.
5:41It took less than 6 minutes.
5:43I'd like to say I felt triumphant.
5:47I felt like a woman who had finally put
5:49down a piano she'd been carrying up a
5:51staircase for four years.
5:53Every dollar in that account came from
5:56Wayne's 31 years at the water utility
5:59and my 34 years in front of a classroom.
6:02Nobody else had earned it and I'd had no
6:05reason to feel guilty about stopping.
6:08My phone buzzed against the counter. A
6:11text from Justin.
6:13Hannah is still really upset. Can you
6:16just text her sorry so we can move on?
6:19Also, I need you Thursday for pick up.
6:21We have a thing.
6:23I read it twice. Nothing about the way
6:25his wife had spoken to me, or the way
6:28he'd looked at his plate. Nothing about
6:30whether I was all right. An apology
6:33demanded, then a favor requested. Both
6:36in one breath.
6:37I didn't answer. Instead, I opened my
6:40email and found a message from my old
6:43friend, Janet Sims, who used to teach
6:46art down the hall from me. Janet had
6:49retired 3 years earlier and moved to
6:51Merida in the Yucatan, where she rented
6:54a casita and painted the old colonial
6:56doorways every morning. Her last email
6:59had a courtyard
7:01full of bougainvillea and one line at
7:03the bottom.
7:05There's a one-bedroom opening in my
7:07building in the fall. Just saying.
7:10It was October and the fall was now.
7:13I picked up the phone and dialed. It was
7:16only a little after 8:00 there, and
7:18Janet answered on the second ring,
7:21sounding breathless.
7:23Paula, is everything okay?
7:25Is that apartment still available?
7:29A pause, then softly, are you finally
7:31ready?
7:32I'm booking a flight today.
7:35I closed the call and sat there with my
7:37hand flat against my chest, feeling my
7:40heart. It wasn't racing. It was just
7:43beating, steady and ordinary, like it
7:46had been waiting years for me to pay
7:48attention.
7:50I gave myself 9 days. I told no one.
7:53First, I called a property manager. A
7:55brisk woman named Denise, who handled
7:58rentals for half my neighborhood.
8:01A traveling nurse at Riverside Methodist
8:04needed a furnished place for a year with
8:06the option to renew.
8:08We signed a lease on my kitchen island.
8:11I kept the garage for storage and locked
8:13the spare room, and I had Denise deposit
8:16the rent straight into my credit union.
8:19After taxes, it came to a little
8:22over 2,000 a month. Added to Wayne's
8:25pension and my social security, I could
8:28live well on it, even in a country where
8:30dollars stretch farther.
8:33Second, I made the practical calls that
8:36nobody mentions in the stories about
8:38women who run away. I set up mail
8:40forwarding.
8:42I put my social security on direct
8:44deposit to an account with no foreign
8:46transaction fees. I bought a year of
8:49private international health insurance
8:52because Medicare doesn't follow you
8:53across the border, and anyone who tells
8:57you otherwise has never read the
8:59booklet. I made a will update with the
9:02lawyer who'd drawn up Wayne's.
9:05I added one thing to it that I'll tell
9:07you about later.
9:09Third, I packed. I took two suitcases,
9:13photographs of Wayne, my paint roll and
9:15my good watercolor paper, a few dresses,
9:18the wedding band I wear on a chain now,
9:21and the opal earrings Wayne gave me for
9:23our 30th. Everything else I either boxed
9:26or left. I felt lighter with every strip
9:29of tape.
9:30All that week, Justin's house stayed
9:32quiet. No call, no text, no sorry. I
9:36think they had decided to wait me out.
9:39That had been our pattern for res-
9:41They pushed and I folded. And by Friday,
9:44I'd appear on the porch with a lasagna
9:46and a face full of apology for something
9:49I hadn't done. This time, they waited
9:51for the lasagna, and it never came.
9:54On day six, my phone rang. The caller ID
9:57read Northside Auto Finance.
10:00"Mrs. Turner, this is a courtesy call.
10:03The payment on the Turners' lease was
10:05returned. Our records list you as the
10:07contact on the auto pay."
10:10"I'm no longer making that payment," I
10:12said. "The lease is in Justin's name.
10:15You'll need to speak with him."
10:17"Ma'am, I
10:19"Thank you.
10:21Have a good afternoon."
10:22I hung up, set the phone down, and
10:25watched the dominoes start to wobble.
10:28Two suitcases stood by my front door the
10:30night before my flight.
10:32There was one last errand, and it
10:34required a brass key that had lived on
10:36my ring for 4 years. It was time to
10:40return it.
10:41I picked a Tuesday afternoon. Justin was
10:45at the office. Hannah, who had quit her
10:48job at the dental practice 2 years
10:49earlier because she wanted to be present
10:52for the kids, would be at her Pilates
10:55studio and then at school pick up. I let
10:58myself in with the key.
11:00The house looked the way it always did.
11:03Cereal bowls in the sink, a drift of
11:06mail on the entry table, backpacks flung
11:10like wreckage. For 4 years, I had walked
11:13through their door and started cleaning
11:15without being asked. That day, I kept my
11:17hands in my coat pockets.
11:20In the kitchen, I took a pad out of my
11:22purse and laid it in the center of the
11:24island and wrote one line.
11:27"I'm taking my space. Don't expect any
11:30more deposits, Paula."
11:32Then, I went to the dining room hutch.
11:35On the bottom shelf sat my mother's
11:37silver tea service, the hand-wrought
11:39pieces that came across from Ireland in
11:42a steamer trunk in 1949.
11:45I had lent it to Hannah for a charity
11:48luncheon 2 years earlier. She never gave
11:51it back. When I'd mentioned it once, she
11:53said it looked so much better in her
11:56space.
11:57I opened the glass door and wrapped the
11:59teapot, creamer, and sugar bowl in dish
12:02towels. I packed them into the canvas
12:05tote I'd brought, along with a framed
12:09photograph of Wayne at the lake that I'd
12:12given Justin for Christmas and that
12:14somebody had tucked behind the
12:16cookbooks.
12:17Then I let myself out and slid the brass
12:20key through the mail slot.
12:22It clattered on the hardwood. The sound
12:25was small and final, like a door in a
12:27different house.
12:29On the way to the airport hotel, my
12:31phone started shaking in the cup holder.
12:34Justin, four times. Hannah, three. I
12:38glanced at the screen, thought, "So now
12:41the dealership has found you." And I
12:43turned the phone off and dropped it into
12:45my bag.
12:46Before I tell you what happened next, I
12:48want to ask you something.
12:51Have you ever loaned money to family and
12:54regretted it?
12:55Merida in late October smelled like wet
12:58stone, frying tortillas, and flowers I
13:01couldn't name. Janet was waiting outside
13:04arrivals in a straw hat, grinning like
13:07we were 25.
13:08"You actually did it." she said, and
13:11hugged me so hard my glasses went
13:13crooked. I actually did.
13:17The apartment was on the second floor of
13:19an old building painted the color of a
13:21peach.
13:22One bedroom, a kitchen with a two-burner
13:25stove, and a balcony the width of a
13:28church pew looking over a street where a
13:30man sold fresh pineapple from a cart.
13:33No guest room, no driveway, no place for
13:37anyone to land and wait for me to open
13:39my purse.
13:40That night I sat on the balcony with a
13:43glass of wine and finally turned my
13:45phone on. It lit up like a slot machine.
13:4826 texts, 11 voicemails.
13:52I played the first one. Justin, "Mom,
13:55what's going on? The car people called
13:57and the mortgage portal says it's past
13:59due. Call me."
14:01The second was Hannah, her voice clipped
14:04and furious. "Paula, this isn't funny.
14:08You can't just throw a tantrum and cut
14:10people off.
14:11Fix the preschool payment today. They're
14:14threatening to unenroll the kids.
14:17Not one of them asked if I was safe. Not
14:20one asked where I was. They were angry
14:23because the machinery of their lives had
14:25stopped humming.
14:26I set the phone on the little iron table
14:29and watched the sky go the color of a
14:31peach, then a plum, then nothing.
14:34I waited 3 days before I answered a
14:37call.
14:38I was walking back from the market with
14:40a bag of tomatoes and a loaf of warm
14:43bread when Justin's name lit up the
14:46screen.
14:47Hello, Justin.
14:49Mom, where have you been? I went by the
14:52house and a woman I've never seen
14:54answered the door and said she lives
14:56there now. Where are you?
14:59I'm in Mexico, honey. I live here now.
15:02The line went so quiet I could hear a
15:05ceiling fan on his end.
15:07Mexico? You can't just live in Mexico.
15:10I'm standing in my kitchen in Mexico, I
15:13said.
15:14Mom,
15:15the lease company says they'll repossess
15:17the SUV.
15:19The school sent the kids home with a
15:20note.
15:21You have to wire money like today.
15:24No.
15:26What do you mean no?
15:28I mean those are your bills, Justin.
15:31You and Hannah are grown adults and I'm
15:34not paying for your life anymore.
15:36I heard scuffling and then Hannah's
15:39voice, high and cold. You're being
15:42selfish, Paula. You're abandoning your
15:44grandchildren because I asked you for a
15:47simple apology.
15:49In your house, I said, the one I helped
15:52you buy. You made it very clear I was
15:54only a guest. So, I took myself and my
15:57checkbook elsewhere.
15:59You can't just
16:01Budget carefully, I said. Goodbye.
16:04I blocked Hannah's number.
16:06I left Justin's open and I silenced the
16:09ringer.
16:10Then I put the bread on the counter and
16:12made lunch.
16:13The weeks stacked into months and my
16:16days took on a shape I'd forgotten I was
16:19allowed to have. I got up when the
16:21roosters did. I painted the courtyard
16:23doors with Janet at a cafe on Calle 60.
16:27I joined a pottery group that met on
16:29Thursdays and made a lopsided bowl I
16:33loved more than anything in my old
16:35kitchen. I took Spanish lessons from a
16:37retired school teacher named Marisol.
16:40And within 2 months, I could haggle for
16:43papayas and gossip with the woman who
16:45ran the laundry. I never opened my bank
16:48balance with that old tight dread. It
16:51sat there, healthy and unbothered, while
16:54my body slowly unlearned how to brace.
16:58From Janet's cousin, who knew a woman at
17:00Hannah's church,
17:01I heard about the fallout in pieces.
17:04The SUV was repossessed within 6 weeks.
17:07Justin bought a 10-year-old Corolla with
17:10a cracked bumper. The kids came out of
17:13Little Acorn and into the neighborhood
17:15public school, which, by every account,
17:18turned out to be perfectly fine. The
17:21cleaning service I'd quietly paid for
17:23was gone. The grocery card was gone.
17:27Hannah, who had once ordered a Whole
17:29Foods delivery to the house three times
17:31a week, now apparently clipped coupons.
17:35Justin called once a month. At first,
17:37the calls were an obstacle course.
17:40Hannah's exhausted mom. She's looking
17:43for work now. Lots of people work,
17:45Justin. It's part of being an adult. I
17:47never raised my voice.
17:50I never gloated or lectured. I just
17:53stopped stepping into the role of
17:54rescuer every time he held out the
17:56script. After a few months, when he
17:59realized I wasn't going to crack, the
18:02calls got shorter and less hostile. He
18:05started to sound tired in a way that was
18:08honest. Around Christmas, I got a long,
18:11shaky message from someone I did not
18:13expect. Wanda.
18:15Paula, I owe you a call, but I'm a
18:18coward, so this will do. I sat at that
18:21table and watched my daughter treat you
18:23like a servant, and I enjoyed it.
18:26I thought you had too much control over
18:28that family. I was wrong. I just wanted
18:31you to know that when Hannah asked me
18:33for money last month, I said no. I said
18:36I'd watched what happened when someone
18:39said yes for too long.
18:41I read it on my balcony with my coffee
18:44going cold. I didn't answer for 2 days.
18:47Then I wrote back four sentences. That I
18:50appreciated her honesty. That I hoped
18:53she'd keep her no. That I wasn't angry
18:56at her, and that Hannah had a mother who
18:58could still teach her something if she
19:00chose to.
19:01Wanda wrote back one word, "Trying."
19:056 months after I left, I was on my
19:07balcony painting a rooftop of drying
19:09laundry when my phone buzzed.
19:12Justin.
19:13Hi, Mom.
19:15Hello, Justin. How are things?
19:18Hard. He said it plainly. No defense
19:20wrapped around it. We sold the dining
19:23set last week to cover the property tax
19:25bill. The one you got us.
19:28I'm sorry it's hard, I said, and I meant
19:31it, but I kept my voice level.
19:33There was a long pause. I could hear him
19:36breathing the way he did when he was
19:38nine and had broken something. And was
19:41working himself up to tell me.
19:44I'm calling to apologize.
19:47I set my brush across the water jar.
19:49All right.
19:51Not about the money, he said quickly. I
19:53mean, yeah, we leaned on you for years.
19:56But I'm apologizing for that dinner.
19:59She told you to get out, Mom, and I sat
20:01there. I let her talk to you like that
20:04after everything.
20:05I could have said one sentence and I
20:07didn't.
20:08It was the most honest thing my son had
20:11said to me in years.
20:13No, I said quietly. You didn't.
20:16I liked how easy you made everything, he
20:18said, and his voice cracked. I didn't
20:21want to fight with Hannah, and you were
20:23the one who'd absorb it. That's not what
20:26a son does. I miss you. The kids ask
20:29about you every night.
20:31"I miss them, too," I said, "and I miss
20:34you.
20:35Can we start over? Just talking. I'm not
20:37asking for anything.
20:39I swear."
20:40I looked out at the laundry snapping on
20:42the rooftops, and past it, the bell
20:45tower of the church where Marisol sings
20:48on Sundays.
20:49I had built something here that was
20:51mine, and I wasn't going to hand it over
20:54without terms.
20:55"We can talk," I said, "once a week. And
20:58if the word loan ever comes up, we hang
21:00up. Deal?"
21:02"Deal."
21:04He called every Sunday after that. He
21:07told me about his job, not to complain
21:09about his boss, but to describe a
21:11logistics project he was proud of.
21:14He told me Isabella had made two friends
21:17and learned to ride a bike without
21:19training wheels, and that Max could now
21:22spell his own name backward.
21:24Hannah never called. She was, Justin
21:27admitted one afternoon, still angry at
21:30the whole situation.
21:32"She blames you," he said, "but I told
21:35her last week we did this to ourselves."
21:38"How did that go over?"
21:40"Not great. She slept in the guest
21:42room." He paused. "But I'm done
21:45pretending she was right."
21:47It was a small thing. It was also the
21:50first time I had ever heard him say a
21:52sentence like that about his wife.
21:55Then came the part I'd been expecting.
21:58And it didn't arrive the way I'd
22:00pictured.
22:01In late spring, Janet's cousin passed
22:04along word that Hannah and Justin had
22:07listed the house.
22:09It was no mystery.
22:10I'd quietly done the the arithmetic
22:13months earlier.
22:14They had bought at the top of their
22:16means, with my money holding up a floor
22:18that had never been theirs. Without it,
22:21the mortgage was 1,400 a month more than
22:24they could manage, And Hannah, whose
22:27license as a dental hygienist had gone
22:29inactive during her 2 years at home,
22:32couldn't just walk back into a job.
22:35She had to retake a certification course
22:38and then start at the bottom of the
22:40schedule.
22:41Saturday shifts, evening clinics. It was
22:44precisely the thing she'd told me once,
22:47over a glass of wine, she would never do
22:50again.
22:51They sold in May for less than they owed
22:54in closing costs. They moved into a
22:56rented duplex in Grove City
22:59with a postage stamp yard and a landlord
23:02who didn't care that Hannah had once
23:05been the most important person in the
23:07cul-de-sac. When Wanda drove up to help
23:09with the move, Janet's cousin heard. She
23:12carried boxes up the stairs
23:15and did not once offer to pay for the
23:17truck.
23:18Then one humid morning in June, I opened
23:21my door to a knock and Hannah was
23:23standing in the hallway.
23:25She had flown across two countries on
23:27what I'd later learn was her own first
23:30paycheck. She wore jeans and a wrinkled
23:33shirt, her hair pulled into the kind of
23:36ponytail that has no time for itself.
23:39Her manicure was gone. She looked 10
23:41years older and strangely a little more
23:44like a person.
23:46"Paula," she said then stopped. "Mrs.
23:49Turner, I wasn't sure you'd open the
23:51door.
23:52I almost didn't."
23:54She held her hands together in front of
23:56her like a girl waiting outside a
23:59principal's office.
24:01"I came to say something and I don't
24:03want you to answer. I just need to say
24:05it."
24:07I stepped back and let her into the
24:09apartment.
24:10I did not offer her coffee. She stood by
24:13the little table where I'd set out my
24:15brushes to dry.
24:17"I was cruel to you," she said.
24:20"For years, I told myself you were
24:22controlling because it was easier than
24:24admitting I needed what you gave us and
24:26resented you for it.
24:29I let my mother make it into a game.
24:31I told Justin I'd leave if he took your
24:33side, and I knew he wouldn't, so I used
24:36it. I said horrible things about you to
24:39the kids' teachers.
24:40And when you stopped, I screamed that
24:42you were selfish, when I was the one who
24:44had been taking for years.
24:47She wiped under one eye with the heel of
24:49her hand.
24:51I'm sorry.
24:52Not because it cost us the house.
24:55Because it was wrong.
24:56I let the silence stay in the room a
24:58while.
25:00I wanted her to feel what that silence
25:02weighs.
25:03Thank you for saying it, I said at last.
25:07I believe you mean it today. I'm not
25:09going to promise I'll feel the same way
25:11tomorrow, and I'm not going to pretend
25:14that sentence fixes four years.
25:16But I heard it.
25:18I'm not asking for anything.
25:20I know you're not. I looked at her
25:22hands, at the short, bare, unlacquered
25:25nails. I'll tell you what I told Justin.
25:29You are welcome in my life if you can
25:31stand in your own two feet. The house
25:33isn't mine, the car isn't mine, and your
25:36children's school isn't mine. I'll be a
25:38grandmother. I won't be a bank.
25:41She nodded, and for once, she did not
25:44argue.
25:45She stayed three days in a hotel down
25:48the street. Justin flew in with the kids
25:51the second weekend. I'd told Janet to
25:54say nothing, and she'd kept the secret
25:56like a vault. So, when Isabella and Max
25:59came sprinting up the stairwell and hit
26:02me at the knees, I laughed and cried at
26:05the same time, and nearly dropped the
26:07pineapple I was carrying.
26:09We spent a week together in the heat.
26:12We ate cochinita pibil out of paper and
26:15watched a man carve a mango into the
26:17shape of a flower.
26:19We climbed the pyramids at Uxmal, where
26:22Max declared himself king of everything.
26:24On the beach at Progreso, Isabella
26:27gathered shells into the hem of her
26:29shirt, and Justin carried Max on his
26:31shoulders into the surf.
26:33Every dinner bill he reached for first.
26:36Every time I let him. They had paid for
26:39the flights with Hannah's hygienist
26:41wages and a loan from Wanda that came
26:44with a repayment schedule and a signed
26:47note.
26:48The ice cream on the last night was
26:50mine.
26:52Because a grandmother is entitled to
26:54that one.
26:55On the balcony after the kids were
26:57asleep, Justin sat across from me with a
27:00glass of cold horchata.
27:03You look happy, Mom.
27:05I am. I really am.
27:07I was so angry when you left, he said,
27:11staring into the glass. I thought you
27:13were punishing us, but you were just
27:15done.
27:17He looked up. I'm proud we paid for this
27:19trip. Isn't that dumb? It's the first
27:22thing in years we've bought that was
27:23actually ours.
27:25It's not dumb at all, I said. That's
27:28what it feels like.
27:29I never had to hire a lawyer, scream, or
27:33write a nasty letter. I only had to
27:35believe that my life was worth more than
27:38the price of being tolerated and then
27:40walk out the door.
27:42I told you I'd mention the thing I added
27:44to my will.
27:46Before I left Ohio, I amended it so that
27:48whatever remains of my estate goes into
27:51two education accounts for Isabella and
27:53Max, held in trust, untouchable until
27:56they turn 18.
27:58The trustee is a bank, not a parent.
28:01Justin knows. Hannah knows. Nobody can
28:04borrow against it, cosign against it, or
28:07ask me to loosen it. It is the one form
28:10of generosity I can offer that nobody
28:12can turn into a leash.
28:14Last Sunday, Justin called and Isabella
28:18was on the line, too. She asked if I
28:20still had the number eight brush.
28:22I told her I did. She asked if she could
28:25have her own someday, a little one, just
28:27hers. And I promise I won't put it in
28:30the sandbox, she said.
28:33I held the phone against my chest for a
28:34second, looking out at the street. The
28:37pineapple man.
28:39The peach colored wall catching the
28:41evening light.
28:43I'll send you one for your birthday, I
28:45said. A good one. And I'll teach you how
28:48to take care of it myself.
28:51Helping a child never really feels
28:53finished, but help that never ends can
28:56hold everybody back.
28:58Do you believe there comes a time when
29:00parents should stop rescuing grown kids?

About this transcript

This page contains the full transcript of "Apologize or Get Out," My Daughter-in-Law Said at Sunday Dinner—So I Canceled Every Payment and... by Core Tales, generated from the public captions YouTube serves with the video. The transcript has 4,514 words across 709 segments, with the original timestamps preserved so you can click any line to jump to that moment in the embedded player.

What you can do with it

Use the transcript to take notes, quote the speaker, build a study guide, generate a summary with ChatGPT or Claude via the YouTube Summary tool, or export it as a timed subtitle file with YouTube to SRT. You can also re-open it in the transcriber to choose a caption track available on the video.

Free YouTube transcript tool

YouTube2Text is a free YouTube transcript generator — no signup, no daily limit. Paste any YouTube link and get the full transcript instantly, with timestamps, click-to-jump, caption language selection, AI prompts for ChatGPT, Claude, and Gemini, and exports to TXT, SRT, VTT, or Markdown.