When Emily was just six, my wife passed away. Nothing was ever the same after that. At her funeral, I promised I’d care for our daughter and love her enough for both of us, right up to my last breath. My Emily grew up to be a clever girl. She always did well at school, helped me about the house, and cooked like her mother delicious food, truly finger-licking good.
In time, Emily went on to university. Her grades slipped a fair bit then, but I couldnt blame her; she started working at the same time and still found ways to help me with chores at home. Later on, Emily met Thomas, and not long after that, she brought him round to meet me. He seemed a decent enough lad, and I was genuinely over the moon when the two of them told me theyd decided to live with me after they got married.
But everything went wrong after that wedding. My new son-in-law became increasingly rude, often shouting at me and making hurtful remarks wherever he could.
So, when Emily suggested we sell our two-bedroom cottage and buy a bigger flat in London, I agreed but I gave them one condition: the new place had to be registered in my name. As you might expect, Thomas immediately flew off the handle, shouting about how I didnt trust him. I laid it on the table; I told them I simply needed some reassurance that I wouldnt end up homeless in my old age. When my time came, the flat would be theirs, and they could do as they pleased with it.
Emily and Thomas packed up their things, hurled all sorts of insults my way, and moved out to the city two days later.
After that, Emily all but vanished from my life. Still, I couldnt stop hoping my daughter would come round and let go of her grudge. A few months after our argument, my sixtieth birthday came up. I was certain Emily would surprise me, so I cleaned the house from top to bottom, cooked all Emilys favourite dishes, got dressed up smartly, and sat at the table waiting. I spent the whole day there, peering out the window, watching for the gate to swing open and for a glimpse of Emily. I waited until evening came.
When it grew dark, I changed clothes, went up to bed, left all the food untouched on the table, and cried as I spoke to a photo of my late wife. I cant even remember falling asleep. Was Emily really that upset with me, so much so she couldnt even give me a ring on my birthday? Or had something terrible happened to her? Deep down, I just couldnt believe that my Emily could forget her old dad so easily
If this whole experience has taught me anything, its that love for your children can sometimes blind you to your own needs. You make sacrifices and hold out hope, but in the end, you have to remember not to lose yourself theres a balance between holding your children close and letting them go.
