I let my estranged mother move in, hoping for reconciliation. Instead, she nearly destroyed my family. I’m Caleb, 32, married to Hannah, with two kids, Ava and Micah. My mother abandoned me at seven, leaving me with my grandmother after years of neglect and harsh words. She reappeared sporadically, always critical, calling me weak and worthless.

Decades later, I built a happy life with Hannah, a kind, patient teacher. But when my mother, now 58, showed up jobless and ill, claiming she wanted to make amends, I let her stay. Initially, she seemed changed, cooking for the kids and reading them stories. But soon, her old ways resurfaced. She insulted Hannah’s homemaking, criticized our parenting, and told the kids I was a failure.

The breaking point came when I found our home trashed and a message from social services about an “unsafe environment.” I knew she’d made the call. Furious, I confronted her. She admitted she wanted to “save” the kids from my “weakness.” I kicked her out, offering a paid apartment but banning her from our home.

Weeks later, she collapsed and died. A letter revealed her abusive past and guilt, but it was too late. At her funeral, I mourned the boy I was, finding peace in my family’s love.