I swallowed my pride: From a father-king to a forgotten old man
I spent my entire life alone. I grew up an orphan.
I don’t recall my parents—they left when I was only a few years old.
My grandmother raised me, and she was strict but fair. She taught me to work hard, never complain, and not rely on others for help.
I matured quickly.
I didn’t really complete school—left after the eighth grade to start working.
Then, I got married.
I was only 18, but I felt like an adult, confident I understood the world and could make my family happy.
A year later, my daughter was born.
I didn’t realize then how much this little bundle would change my life.
I looked at her and vowed to myself, “You won’t grow up like I did. You will have everything.”
From that moment on, my path was clear—work hard.
When my wife left, I was alone with our child.
The happiness in our family 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 so our daughter would lack for nothing.
She started staying out late.
Then I discovered she had someone else.
And soon, she was gone from our lives, leaving without a word to our daughter.
I didn’t cry.
I couldn’t afford to show weakness.
I just kept working.
I moved from one job to another, didn’t know what a weekend felt like, and couldn’t recall the last time I slept more than four hours in one go.
But it didn’t matter.
Because I had her—my little girl, my princess.
I promised myself she would be happy.
And I kept my promise.
I bought her everything she wished for.
Toys. Dolls. A bicycle.
Even when money was tight, I found a way.
I worked and worked and worked…
And she hugged me around my neck and said:
“Dad, you’re the best! You’re my king!”
I was ready to do anything for those words.
I went abroad to earn money for her.
As she grew, so did the expenses.
Computers, phones, fashionable clothes, trips…
Then came the prom.
“Dad, I found the perfect dress! It’s just 800 pounds!”
I didn’t show my shock at the price.
I smiled and said:
“Of course, princess. We’ll get it.”
But that very night, I packed my bags and went abroad to earn more.
I went where the pay was good, where one could earn more in a month than a year back home.
I worked as a loader, a construction worker, a guard—anything, just to send her money.
I ate bread with water, slept in cramped quarters with ten others like me.
But it didn’t matter.
Because I did it for her.
Because she was my princess.
And I was ready to work myself into the ground for her.
I paid for everything—her education, her wedding, her child…
She got into university.
“Dad, I need to pay for the semester…”
“Of course, sweetheart.”
“Dad, I need money for rent, food, studies…”
“Of course, sweetheart.”
I never complained.
I never told her how tough it was.
I just worked.
Then she fell in love.
“Dad, I’m getting married!”
I felt my heart squeeze tight.
She’s still so young…
“Are you sure, daughter?”
“Yes, Dad. I love him.”
Once again, I said nothing.
Just reached into my pocket and pulled out the last of my earnings.
The wedding.
Then the birth of her child.
More expenses.
I didn’t mind.
I was happy.
And then I was not needed anymore…
Years went by.
I aged.
Work became difficult.
I could no longer run around a construction site, carry heavy loads, or stand on my feet for 14 hours a day.
One day I thought:
“Why not buy a car? Make life a bit easier for myself…”
And I called my daughter.
“Sweetheart, I’ve decided to buy a car. After all, I’m not young anymore, and walking everywhere is hard…”
I expected her to say:
“Right, Dad! You did so much for us, you deserve it!”
But instead, I heard laughter.
“Dad, a car for you?!? Are you joking? Where would you even go? You’re old!”
And then she added:
“Give the money to us. We want to redecorate the nursery for our son.”
I fell silent.
Then simply said:
“Of course, sweetheart.”
And I handed over the money.
I’m no longer a king. I’m just an old man now…
I realized that day.
I’m no longer important.
I’m no longer needed.
I was needed when I could give.
But when the time came to think of myself—I was set aside.
I swallowed my pride.
I didn’t argue.
I just understood.
Now I’m just an old man in the way.
And you know what I think now?
One day she’ll become a mother.
She’ll see her children grow up.
And then, on a rainy day, she’ll suddenly remember me.
Remember how I worked for her, didn’t sleep, didn’t eat, didn’t live for myself.
And then she’ll understand.
And then she’ll realize the mistake she made.
I’m not angry.
I’m just waiting for that day.
