My dad told me, when he was 72, that he was going to marry his old schoolmate.
When he dropped that bombshell, I was stunned. He was already well into his seventies!
Hed been a widower for twenty years after Mum passed away. I moved out of the family home three decades ago, after I started my own family. I still make a point of seeing him at Christmas and during the summer holidays, usually with my wife, Anne, and our two kids. Im lucky that my father is a tough old bloke who never whines about his health, so he still tends the garden and chops firewood himself, even though Anne and I still pop over when he needs a hand.
Just the other week, he rang me up and said it was high time he brought a lady back home. Turns out the lady is a former classmate, a girl named Poppy; they were close back in school, then drifted apart when they moved to different towns, and now, in their twilight years, theyve decided to give life another go together. It feels like a bit of a joke, doesnt it?
When I heard about my dads wedding plans, I told him straight away that we werent expecting to be invited to the ceremony. That didnt stop him, though. A few months ago they tied the knot in a modest little gathering.
What could have been missing from his life for him to wait so long to settle down?
The fact is, Dad lives in a sprawling country house with acres of fields and a working farm. His new wife, Poppy, has a brood of adult children and grandchildren who would love nothing more than a slice of that estate. It makes me wonder whether the marriage is really about companionship or about the money.
Anne and I live in a threebedroom flat in Manchester that weve been paying the mortgage on for half our lives. We have two kids, and I always thought wed hand the flat over to the older one and let the younger inherit Dads house. Now we have no idea who will end up with what.
We havent visited Dad in six months, and honestly we dont feel like we should, now that hes started a new chapter. Relatives keep phoning, telling us we ought to be glad hes found happiness at his age. Id be happy for him if it werent for the nagging thought that Poppy might be after his assets, and that we could end up warring with a whole clan of her relatives over the farm thats been my familys home for generations.
Im at a loss. I cant keep ignoring Dad, but I dont have the strength to pretend everythings fine. What would you advise me to do to get myself out of this mess?
