“I told my wife, “I wasn’t going to fight it. No chemo, no long hospital stays. But it changed when you gave me to reason to live again.””
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| For illustrative purposes | Image by Siggy Nowak via Pixabay |
Selling the motorhome wasn’t easy. It had belonged to my parents, and every corner held a memory—road trips, family holidays, and quiet mornings parked by the lake.
But life moves on, and we finally decided it was time to let it go.
Shortly after the man from Tennessee agreed to buy it for $10,000, someone else offered us $20,000 in cash. My husband and I just looked at each other.
“Twenty thousand,” he said, shaking his head. “That’s hard to turn down.”
I nodded. “It is. But we already gave our word.”
He sighed, smiling a little. “Yeah. A deal’s a deal.”
The man from Tennessee showed up the next day, looking more excited than I expected. After checking everything over, he handed my husband the money and took the keys.
Then he paused. “I’ve got to tell you something,” he said quietly.
We both looked at him.
“I have cancer,” he admitted. “When I first got the news, I decided not to fight it. No chemo, no dragging it out. But when I saw this motorhome, I changed my mind.
I thought, ‘If I can get this, I’ll have something to look forward to.’
Now I’m starting treatment. I want to live as long as I can and travel with my wife.”
My husband blinked fast and cleared his throat. “Well,” he said, voice a little shaky, “I’m glad it’s going to someone who’ll really use it.”
The man smiled. “You didn’t just sell me a motorhome. You gave me hope.”
“I thought my road was ending,” the man said quietly. “But now it feels like it’s just beginning.”
This brought my husband to tears, and he’s not a guy who cries easily. He just stood there, eyes red, nodding as the man kept talking about all the places he wanted to see.
As he drove away, I didn’t feel sad like I thought I would. I was just glad it ended up right where it was meant to be.
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