Dad, I’d Like You to Meet Her—She’ll Be My Wife and Your Daughter-in-Law.

**Diary Entry**

“Dad, meet hershes going to be my wife, your daughter-in-law.”

“Dad, this is my fiancée, your future daughter-in-law, Imogen!” declared Marcus, beaming with joy.

“What?!” Professor Richard Hawthorne, PhD, stared in disbelief. “If this is a joke, its not the slightest bit funny.”

He glanced with distaste at Imogens rough hands, dirt caked under her nails. To him, she looked as if shed never seen soap and water in her life.

*Good heavens! Thank God my dear Eleanor didnt live to see this humiliation. We raised our boy with the finest manners, and this is what he brings home?*

“Its not a joke!” Marcus shot back defiantly. “Imogens staying with us, and were marrying in three months. If you wont be at the wedding, Ill manage without you!”

“Hello!” Imogen smiled cheerfully and headed straight for the kitchen. “Brought some Cornish pasties, blackberry jam, dried mushrooms” She listed the contents of her worn-out bag as she unpacked.

Richard clutched his chest when he saw the pristine white tablecloth stained by jam.

“Marcus, wake up! If this is revenge, its too cruel. Where on earth did you find this simpleton? Shes not staying under my roof!”

“I love Imogen. And my wife has every right to live in my home!” Marcus smirked, clearly mocking him.

Richard realised his son was deliberately provoking him. Without another word, he stormed off to his study.

Lately, their relationship had worsened. After Eleanors death, Marcus became uncontrollabledropping out of university, speaking to his father with outright rudeness, living recklessly. Richard had hoped hed change, return to the bright, kind lad he once was. But with each day, Marcus slipped further away. And now, this this country girl in their home. Clearly, Marcus had invited her precisely because he knew his father would disapprove.

Before long, Marcus and Imogen married. Richard refused to attend, unwilling to accept this unwanted daughter-in-law. He seethed, imagining Eleanorthe perfect homemakerreplaced by this uneducated girl who could barely string two words together.

Imogen tried to win him over, ignoring his disdain, but only made things worse. Richard saw nothing good in heronly ignorance and coarse manners.

Marcus, having played the dutiful husband briefly, slid back into drinking and debauchery. Richard often overheard their arguments, secretly pleased, hoping Imogen would finally leave.

“Richard, your sons filing for divorce! Hes throwing me out, and Im carrying his child!” Imogen burst in one day, tears in her eyes.

“Why *here*? Surely youve somewhere to go. Pregnancy doesnt grant you a right to stay post-divorce. Forgive me, but I wont interfere,” Richard replied, privately relieved to be rid of her.

Crushed and bewilderedwhy had her father-in-law despised her from the start?Imogen packed her things. She couldnt fathom Marcus cruelty, treating her like a stray dog before abandoning her. So what if she was a country girl? She had a heart, didnt she?

***

Eight years passed Richard lived in a retirement home, his health declining. Marcus wasted no time, swiftly institutionalising him to avoid the burden.

Resigned to his fate, Richard knew there was no turning back. Hed spent his life teaching thousands about love, respect, and carestill receiving letters of gratitude from former students. Yet his own son hed failed.

“Richard, youve a visitor,” his roommate announced after a stroll.

“Who? Marcus?” he exclaimed, though he knew better. His son despised him.

“Dunno. Said to fetch you. Well? Go see!”

Leaning on his cane, Richard shuffled toward the dingy common room. Spotting her from a distance, he recognised her instantly.

“Hello, Imogen,” he murmured, head bowed. Guilt gnawed at himthat kind, simple girl hed failed to defend all those years ago.

“Richard! Youve changed so much. Are you ill?”

“A little.” He smiled faintly. “How did you find me?”

“Marcus mentioned it. He refuses to speak to his own son, but the boy keeps askingfor his father, for his grandfather Jonathans done nothing wrong. He *needs* family.” Her voice trembled. “Forgive me, perhaps I shouldnt have come.”

“Wait! How is Jonathan? The last photo you sent, he was three.”

“Hes here, by the entrance. Shall I fetch him?”

“Please!”

A fair-haired boyMarcus miniatureentered shyly, approaching the grandfather hed never met.

“Hello, lad. My, how youve grown” Richard wept, embracing his grandson.

They talked for hours, strolling through the autumnal park nearby. Imogen spoke of her struggleslosing her mother young, raising a son alone, managing her small farm.

“Forgive me, Imogen. I was so wrong. I prided myself on intellect, breeding yet only lately have I learnedwhat truly matters is kindness, sincerity of soul.”

“Richard, weve a proposal,” Imogen said nervously. “Come live with us. Youre alone; so are we. Wed love to have family near.”

“Grandad, *please*! Well go fishing, mushroom hunting the countrysides beautiful, and theres plenty of room!” Jonathan pleaded, clutching his hand.

“Lets go!” Richard grinned. “I failed raising my son. Perhaps I can give Jonathan what I withheld from Marcus. Besides Ive never lived in the country. Might just like it.”

“You *will*!” Jonathan laughed.

**Lesson learned too late:** A mans worth isnt in his title, but his heart. Pride blinds more surely than any ignorance.