When my wife passed away, our daughter Emily was only six. After that, nothing was ever the same. At my wifes funeral, I promised her Id care for Emily and love her enough for both of us, for as long as I lived.
Emily grew into a clever young woman. She studied hard, helped me around the house, and cooked meals that were just as delicious as her motherstruly mouth-watering. Eventually, she headed off to university. Her grades slipped a bit, but it didn’t trouble me; Emily was juggling a part-time job alongside her studies and still found time to help me at home.
Later, Emily met James. Soon enough, she introduced him to me. He seemed like a decent chap, and I was genuinely pleased when they told me theyd decided to move in with me after getting married.
But things took a turn for the worse after the wedding. My son-in-law became rude, insulting, and would raise his voice at me without reason.
So, when Emily suggested we sell our two-bedroom house in Birmingham and buy a larger flat in London, I set one condition: the new place would need to be in my name. As expected, James lost his temper, accusing me of not trusting him. I made it clear I had nothing to hide. I just need to know, I told them, that in my old age I won’t end up out on the street. When Im gone, the flat will be yours to do with as you please.
After that, Emily and James packed up, hurled all sorts of insults my way, and moved into the city two days later.
That was the start of Emily forgetting all about me. Still, deep inside, I hoped that one day my daughter would see things my way and stop being cross with me. A few months after our row, it was my 60th birthday. I was certain Emily would surprise me, so I cleaned the whole house, cooked her favourite dishes, dressed in my best clothes, and set the table. I spent the day sitting and looking out the window, waiting for the gate to swing open and see Emily walk in.
I waited right up until eveningthen eventually, I changed, went to bed, left all the food out on the table, and cried. I talked to my late wifes photograph and dont even remember when I fell asleep. Was Emily truly so hurt that she couldnt even call to wish me a happy birthday? Or had something happened to her? I couldnt believe that my Emily would really forget about her old dad…
Life has a way of testing the bonds we think are strongest, but Ive learnt that sometimes, love must include letting goeven when your heart aches. All we can do is keep caring, keep hoping, and hold fast to kindnessno matter how lonely the days may feel.
