Someone Wrote ‘SHAME’ on My Grandpa’s Car While He Was Recovering From a Heart Attack – They Never Expected His Granddaughter to Fight Back Like This
Two months ago, I was at work when my phone rang. It was my mom.
“Elise, it’s Grandpa,” she said, her voice trembling. “He’s in the hospital. He—”
“Hospital?” I cut in, completely blindsided. “What happened?”
“He had a heart attack,” Mom said, barely holding it together. “We need to go see him.”
“Is he okay?” My stomach dropped.
“I don’t know, Elise…” Her voice broke.
“I’m coming right now,” I said, shutting down my computer and telling my boss about the emergency.
Grandpa Toren is my rock, my best friend, the person I love most in the world—maybe even more than Mom, but that’s our little secret. That phone call turned my world upside down.
I rushed home, grabbed Mom, and we drove to the hospital, a 45-minute trip that felt like an eternity. At the hospital, a nurse told us Grandpa was in surgery. After what seemed like forever, the doctor came out.
“The surgery went well, but he needs rest and care,” he said. “A heart-healthy diet—low salt, low fat. Gentle exercise. And no stress.”
“Got it, doc. When can we see him?”
“Is he really okay?” Mom asked, her voice desperate.
“He’s resting comfortably,” the doctor assured us. “The nurses will let you know when you can visit.”
A few days later, Grandpa was sent home, but not without challenges. He lives in another town, too far for daily check-ins. So we hired a full-time nurse who also agreed to cook for him. She was a blessing. For two months, Grandpa stayed in his apartment, focusing on recovery.
Earlier last week, I realized it had been too long since I last visited. Over breakfast, I said to Mom:
“I’m visiting Grandpa this weekend. Want to come?”
Her face lit up. “That’s a great idea, sweetie. He’ll be so happy to see us.”
On Saturday, I got up early, grabbed a bouquet of his favorite yellow sunflowers, and drove with Mom to his place. I couldn’t wait to see his grin.
But as we pulled into the apartment complex, I saw something that made my blood boil. Grandpa’s old car, covered in dust from sitting unused since his illness, had a fresh message written on the rear windshield:
“DIRTY PIG! CLEAN YOUR CAR OR LEAVE! SHAME! SHAME!”
I was furious. Who would be cruel enough to do this to a sick old man?
“Oh my gosh,” Mom gasped. “Who would do this?”
“Some heartless person picking on a sick old man,” I said, fists clenched, face burning with anger.
I took a deep breath. “You’re right. Let’s go see him.”
When we opened Grandpa’s apartment door, he appeared with a huge smile. “My girls!” he said, hugging us. “What a treat!”
“Grandpa!” I hugged him tightly. “You look amazing! So handsome!”
“Of course!” he chuckled. “Even in a hospital gown, I still charmed the nurses!”
But that nasty message on his car kept gnawing at me. I couldn’t let it go.
“Hey, I need to handle something quickly,” I said. “Mom, stay with Grandpa, I’ll be back soon.”
“Sure, sweetie,” she said.
I went to the security office where a bored guard was sitting.
“I need to see the parking lot camera footage,” I said.
He raised an eyebrow. “I can’t show that to just anyone.”
I leaned in, voice low: “Grandpa lives here. He’s been really sick, and someone wrote a cruel message on his car. I need to know who did it.”
He hesitated, then nodded. “Alright, just this once.”
We scanned days of footage, until I saw…