I only knew my parents from photographs tucked away in an old family album. My mother passed away giving birth to me, and my father, unable to cope with losing the woman he loved, wanted nothing to do with me and gave up his rights. It was my grandfather who came and took me from the hospital, becoming my guardian and, truly, my only family.
Grandad couldnt leave his job, so he hired a nanny to look after me while he was at work. Things got a bit easier when I started nursery. Time seemed to fly, and my grandad and I always got on rather wellwe never really argued, always found a compromise, even during my wild teenage years. I was always grateful he was there for me. The thought of what might have become of me if it werent for him filled me with dread.
I showed my gratitude the best way I knew how: I always helped out around the house and tried hard at school. He was so proud that his granddaughter was always selected for academic competitions and athletic events.
He even helped steer me toward my future career. Id been interested in biology for as long as I could remember, but I wasnt sure what path to take. So he introduced me to a friend of his, a renowned doctor. After our chat, I knew medicine was truly where my heart lay.
I poured myself into my university studies, eventually landing an internship at one of the best hospitals in London. It was tough at times, but I pushed through and chose to specialise in neurosurgery.
Straight after qualifying, I received a call from the director of a top private hospital. He offered me a job, and it would have been foolish to pass up such an opportunity. Those first years were exhaustingendless shifts, surgery after surgerybut Im proud to say that not one of my patients was lost on the operating table. Within a year, I was lecturing to packed rooms, with even senior doctors eager to hear what I had to say. Three years further on, my name was recognised in medical circles across the globe. So when I was offered a position in one of Americas elite hospitals, neither my grandad nor I were particularly surprised. After much thought, we decided to go for it.
So, we packed up and moved abroad. But Grandad didnt stay long; he missed home terribly and eventually moved back to England. Truthfully, Id have gone with him if I hadnt met the love of my life there. I met Theoanother surgeon, working at a different hospitalwhen he attended one of my lectures. We started off as friends, then began dating, and in time decided to move in together. We agreed to get married back in England; I wanted my grandad to walk me down the aisle. When I tried to convince him to return to America for the wedding, he firmly refused, insisting he wanted to spend the rest of his days, and one day be buried, in his homeland.
On a day when Theo and I spent hours playing board games with my grandad, my phone rangit was my father. He started the conversation by congratulating me on my upcoming wedding, but I wasnt interested in pleasantries. I interrupted and asked directly what he wanted. He replied:
I want money, darling! Youre living like royalty now, arent you? Found yourself a wealthy husband overseas and youre swimming in pounds! So surely you can spare a little for your own father, cant you?
I had no desire to listen to any more, so I hung up and blocked his number.
I honestly cant fathom where he found the nerve to call, claiming to be family, when he abandoned me without a second thought.
For me, I have two people who are family, and Id do anything for them. But my fatherhes nothing to me at all.
