I swallowed my tears, reflecting on how I went from being a young, hopeful father to an old man with no one to care for him.
All my life, I was alone.
I grew up an orphan.
I have no memories of my parents – they left when I was very young.
My grandmother raised me. She was strict but fair, teaching me the value of hard work, independence, and self-reliance.
I matured quickly.
Never truly finished school – I left in the eighth grade to work.
Then I got married.
I was only 18, but I felt so grown-up, believing I knew how the world worked and that I could make my family happy.
A year later, my daughter was born.
I didn’t realize then how much that tiny bundle of joy would change my life.
I looked at her and promised myself, “You won’t have to grow up the way I did. You’ll have everything you need.”
From that moment on, my path was clear – work tirelessly.
My wife left, and I was left alone with my child
Our family happiness was short-lived.
My wife couldn’t handle it.
She wanted to go out and have fun, while I… I worked from dawn till dusk to ensure our daughter lacked nothing.
She started coming home late.
Then I discovered she was seeing someone else.
Eventually, she left us without even saying goodbye to our daughter.
I didn’t cry.
I couldn’t afford to show weakness.
I just kept working.
I moved from one shift to the next, hardly knew what weekends were, and couldn’t remember the last time I slept more than four hours straight.
But none of it mattered.
Because I had her – my daughter, my little princess.
I promised myself that she would be happy.
And I kept my word.
I bought her everything she dreamed of.
Toys. Dolls. A bicycle.
Even when money was tight – I found a way.
I worked, worked, worked…
And she would hug me around the neck and say:
“Dad, you’re the best! You’re my king!”
For those words, I’d endure anything.
I left for better prospects for her
As my daughter grew, expenses rose.
A computer, a phone, trendy clothes, trips…
Then, her school prom came around.
“Dad, I found the perfect dress! It’s only 800 pounds!”
I didn’t show how that number pained me.
I smiled and said:
“Of course, princess. We’ll get it.”
That evening, I packed my bags and left for work in another city.
I went where the pay was good, where in a month I could earn more than a year back home.
I took jobs as a loader, a builder, a security guard – just to send her money.
I ate bread and drank water, slept in cramped rooms with ten others like me.
But I didn’t care.
Because I did it all for her.
Because she was my princess.
And for her, I’d work myself to exhaustion if needed.
I paid for everything – her education, her wedding, her child…
She got into university.
“Dad, I need tuition money…”
“Of course, love.”
“Dad, I need money for rent, food, school…”
“Of course, love.”
I never complained.
Never told her how hard it was for me.
I just worked.
Then she fell in love.
“Dad, I’m getting married!”
My heart ached.
She’s still so young…
“Are you sure, love?”
“Yes, Dad. I love him.”
Again, I said nothing more.
Just reached into my pocket and gave her the last of my earnings.
The wedding.
Then came the baby.
More expenses.
I didn’t regret it.
I was happy.
And then I became irrelevant…
Years passed.
I aged.
Work became tough.
I couldn’t run around construction sites, lugging heavy things, or stand for 14 hours straight anymore.
One day, I thought to myself, “Why not buy a car? Make life a bit easier…”
I called my daughter.
“Daughter, I’ve decided to buy a car. It’s getting hard to walk everywhere…”
I expected she’d say:
“Of course, Dad! You’ve done so much for us; you deserve it!”
Instead, she laughed.
“Dad, a car? Are you serious? Where would you even drive? You’re old!”
Then she added:
“Give us the money. We want to build a nursery for our son.”
I went silent.
And then simply said:
“Of course, love.”
And handed over the money.
I’m no longer a king. I’m just an old man.
I realized it that day.
I was no longer important.
No longer needed.
Needed only when I could give.
But when the time came to consider myself – I was unnecessary.
I swallowed my tears.
I didn’t argue.
I simply understood.
Now I’m just an old man in the way.
And you know what I think now?
She’ll become a mother too.
She’ll see her children grow up.
And then, someday, on a rainy day, she might remember me.
Remember how I worked for her, didn’t sleep, didn’t eat, never lived for myself.
And then she’ll understand.
And she’ll realize the mistake she made.
I’m not angry.
I just await that day…
