{"id":100523,"date":"2025-02-14T16:32:27","date_gmt":"2025-02-14T09:32:27","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/levanews.com\/?p=55507"},"modified":"2025-02-14T16:33:23","modified_gmt":"2025-02-14T09:33:23","slug":"i-sold-my-late-moms-belongings-at-a-flea-market-where-a-strangers-story-made-me-secretly-take-a-hair-from-his-coat-for-a-dna-test","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/echowoven.com\/i-sold-my-late-moms-belongings-at-a-flea-market-where-a-strangers-story-made-me-secretly-take-a-hair-from-his-coat-for-a-dna-test\/","title":{"rendered":"I Sold My Late Mom’s Belongings at a Flea Market, Where a Stranger’s Story Made Me Secretly Take a Hair from His Coat for a DNA Test"},"content":{"rendered":"

\"\"\n

While I was selling my late mother\u2019s belongings, an elderly gentleman identified her pendant. I was shaken by his tale, and as he turned to go, I plucked a hair from his coat, resolved to find out the truth about my father.\n

After my mother passed, I returned to our old house, where silence pressed in around me. Boxes filled with her belongings waited for my decisions.\n

Then I saw it\u2014the pendant. Hidden beneath a stack of faded letters, the emerald gleamed under the dim light. Mom never wore jewelry like this. I stared at it before muttering, \u201cWell, I guess it goes in the sale box.\u201d\n

The fair buzzed with energy as I stood behind my table, selling pieces of my mother\u2019s past. Then a deep, raspy voice broke through the noise.\n

\u201cExcuse me.\u201d\n

An older man stood before me, weathered lines tracing his face. His eyes locked onto the pendant. He picked it up, turning it in his hands.\n

\u201cThis pendant\u2026 it\u2019s beautiful. Where did it come from?\u201d\n

\u201cIt was my mother\u2019s,\u201d I replied.\n

He studied it, his expression shifting. \u201cI gave one just like this to a woman once. Her name was Martha. We spent a summer together\u2014years ago. It was… unforgettable.\u201d His lips curved into a bittersweet smile. \u201cBut life pulled us apart. I never saw her again.\u201d\n

My heart pounded.\n

Martha\u2014that was my mother\u2019s name.\n

\"\"\n

After a brief conversation, I convinced him to take the pendant, offering to clean it first. As he returned it to me, I noticed a strand of hair on his coat. Without hesitation, I plucked it, slipping it into my pocket.\n

\u201cNice to meet you, Jackson,\u201d I said, already knowing what I had to do.\n

Days passed before I finally submitted the DNA test. The question haunted me\u2014was Jackson my father? My mother had never spoken of him, leaving a void in my past.\n

Weeks crawled by until the results arrived. My hands trembled as I opened the envelope.\n

99% probability.\n

Jackson was my father.\n

Clutching the pendant, I found myself at his doorstep. He answered quickly, surprise flashing across his face.\n

\u201cThis is yours,\u201d I said, extending the pendant.\n

His brows furrowed as I explained the DNA test. His expression darkened.\n

\u201cYou had no right to do this,\u201d he snapped. \u201cI don\u2019t believe you. You\u2019re here because you want something.\u201d\n

\u201cWant something?\u201d My frustration boiled over. \u201cI just wanted to know who my father was!\u201d\n

But Jackson shook his head. \u201cLeave.\u201d The door slammed shut.\n

Just as I turned to go, it creaked open again. A girl, maybe fifteen, stepped out. She’s Julia, his daughter. \u201cCome back tomorrow. I\u2019ll talk to him,\u201d she said.\n

\"\"\n

The next day, Jackson answered the door looking different\u2014calmer.\n

\u201cI owe you an apology,\u201d he admitted, letting me inside.\n

We sat in silence before he finally spoke.\n

\u201cI gave this pendant to your mother when I asked her to marry me. I didn\u2019t have a ring. She laughed and said she didn\u2019t need diamonds. But soon after, she ended things. I was leaving to chase my dreams. I didn\u2019t know she was pregnant.\u201d\n

\u201cShe never told me,\u201d I whispered. \u201cShe said she was happy raising me alone.\u201d\n

Jackson sighed. \u201cI think she wanted to protect you from me. And when I saw you yesterday, all I could think about was Julia. I was afraid of failing as a father again.\u201d\n

I reached into my bag, pulling out my mother\u2019s old journal. \u201cI found this.\u201d\n

Jackson hesitated before taking it. As he read, his face changed. His voice broke when he whispered, \u201cShe was my dream.\u201d\n

Finally, he looked at me. \u201cI can\u2019t change the past. But if you\u2019ll let me, I\u2019d like to be part of your life now.\u201d\n

That evening, we sat down for dinner. The food didn\u2019t matter. It was the warmth, the laughter, the feeling of belonging. For the first time in my life, I wasn\u2019t alone. I had found my family.\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

While I was selling my late mother\u2019s belongings, an elderly gentleman identified her pendant. I was shaken by his tale, and as he turned to go, I plucked a hair from his coat, resolved to find out the truth about my father. After my mother passed, I returned to our old house, where silence pressed …\n","protected":false},"author":31,"featured_media":100530,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[1439],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-100523","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-stories"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/echowoven.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/100523","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/echowoven.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/echowoven.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/echowoven.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/31"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/echowoven.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=100523"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/echowoven.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/100523\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":100531,"href":"https:\/\/echowoven.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/100523\/revisions\/100531"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/echowoven.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/100530"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/echowoven.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=100523"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/echowoven.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=100523"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/echowoven.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=100523"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}