I swallowed my tears: How I went from a kingly father to a forgotten old man
I’ve been alone my whole life.
I grew up an orphan.
I don’t remember my parents; they left when I was just a few years old.
My grandmother raised me. She was strict but fair. She taught me to work hard, not to complain, and not to rely on help from others.
I had to grow up fast.
I didn’t finish school properly; I left after my equivalent of year nine to get a job.
Then, I got married.
I was only 18, but I thought I was mature, that I understood the world and could create a happy family.
A year later, my daughter was born.
At the time, I didn’t realize how much that tiny bundle would change my life.
I looked at her and promised myself, “You won’t grow up the way I did. You will have it all.”
From that moment on, my sole focus was work.
My wife left, and I stayed with our child.
Our family bliss was short-lived.
She couldn’t handle it anymore.
She wanted to go out and have fun, while I worked from dawn till dusk to provide for our daughter.
Soon, she began staying out late.
Then, I discovered she was seeing someone else.
And just like that, she vanished from our lives.
She left, without even saying goodbye to our daughter.
I didn’t cry.
I couldn’t afford even a moment of weakness.
I simply continued working.
I went from one shift to the next, forgot what weekends were, and couldn’t recall the last time I’d slept more than four hours in a row.
But none of that mattered.
Because I had her – my little girl, my princess.
I vowed she would be happy.
And I kept that promise.
I bought her everything she desired.
Toys, dolls, a bicycle.
Even when money was tight – I found a way.
I worked, and worked, and worked…
And she would hug me and say:
“Dad, you’re the best! You’re my king!”
For those words alone, I was ready to do anything.
I left for work for her
As she grew, expenses did too.
A computer, a phone, trendy clothes, trips…
And then came prom.
“Dad, I found the perfect dress! It’s only £800!”
I didn’t let my discomfort show at the price.
I smiled and said, “Of course, princess. We’ll get it.”
That same night, I packed my things and left for better-paying work.
I went wherever the pay was good, where a month’s earnings could eclipse a year’s worth back home.
I worked as a loader, a builder, a security guard – anything to send money back to her.
I survived on bread and water, slept in cramped quarters with ten others just like me.
But none of it bothered me.
Because I was doing it for her.
Because she was my princess.
And for her, I was ready to work myself to the bone.
I paid for everything – her schooling, her wedding, her child’s birth…
She got into university.
“Dad, I need to pay for the semester…”
“Of course, darling.”
“Dad, I need money for an apartment, for food, for studying…”
“Of course, darling.”
I never complained.
I never told her how tough it was for me.
I just worked.
Then she fell in love.
“Dad, I’m getting married!”
My heart ached.
She seemed so young still…
“Are you sure, darling?”
“Yes, Dad. I love him.”
Again, I said nothing.
I just reached into my pocket, handing over the last of my earnings.
The wedding.
Then the birth of her child.
More expenses followed.
I didn’t mind.
I was happy.
And then, I became irrelevant…
Years passed.
I grew older.
Work became harder.
I could no longer dash around a building site, carry heavy loads, or stand for 14-hour shifts.
Then I thought, “Why not buy a car? Make life a bit easier…”
And I called my daughter.
“Darling, I’ve decided to buy a car. After all these years, it’s getting hard to walk everywhere…”
I expected her to say:
“You’re right, Dad! You’ve done so much for us, you deserve it!”
Instead, she laughed.
“Dad, a car?! Are you joking? Where would you even drive it? You’re old!”
Then added:
“Give us the money. We want to redo the nursery for our son.”
I fell silent.
Then simply said:
“Of course, darling.”
And I handed over the money.
I’m no longer a king. Just an old man…
I realized it that day.
I no longer mattered.
I was no longer needed.
I was useful as long as I could give.
But when it was time to think of myself, I was suddenly surplus.
I swallowed my tears.
I didn’t argue.
I just accepted it.
Now, I’m just an old man who’s in the way.
And you know what I think now?
One day, she will become a mother.
She will witness her children grow up too.
And someday, on a rainy day, she’ll remember me.
Remember how I worked for her, went without sleep, went without food, lived not for myself.
And then she’ll understand.
And then she’ll realize the mistake she made.
I bear no bitterness.
I just wait for that day…
