My dad, who left 20 years ago, called from his deathbed for a final wish, and what he asked broke my heart.

When my estranged father, who had left 20 years before, called from his deathbed, I was divided between anger and curiosity. His final wish was unexpected, and what he revealed about his abduction broke all I thought I understood. My phone buzzed on the nightstand as I was getting ready for bed. The number was unfamiliar, so I let it go to voicemail. Not even a minute later, a text arrived: “ALICE, THIS IS YOUR DAD.”

Please call; I am in the hospital.”My heart has stopped. Dad? What happens after twenty years? I sat on the side of my bed and stared at the message. Part of me wanted to delete it and forget, but curiosity won out. I called the number back. “Hello?” The voice was feeble and hardly heard. “Dad?” “Alice, this is me. “I… don’t have much time.”

A woman in her bedroom at night, looking at her phone | Source: Midjourney

“Why are you calling now?” My voice was rougher than I had intended.”I need to clarify… I want to ask you something. But please, do not tell your mother.There it was: the same secrecy that defined my childhood. “What do you want?” He took a hesitant breath. “I fled because your grandfather, Harold, paid me to disappear. He loathed me and thought I was a failure. “He found someone better for your mom.”

I couldn’t believe what I heard. “Grandpa? “He did that?” “Yes. I was struggling then. Addictions, poor decisions. Your grandfather recognized an opportunity to get rid of me, so I accepted the money.” “So you just left us for money?” Anger boiled up. “I understand it sounds bad. But I invested the money and started a business. It was everything for you, Alice. “To secure your future.”

“Why didn’t you ever come back?” “It’s part of the bargain. I couldn’t approach you or your mother. But I was present, watching. I saw your graduation and volleyball games. I was always present, only from a distance.” My world seemed to be tilting. “Why didn’t Mom ever tell me?””I do not know. Perhaps she did not want you to detest him. Or perhaps she believed she was protecting you.

A sick-looking man lying in bed | Source: Pexels

“What do you want now?” I inquired, my voice wavering. “I need to see you, Alice.” One more time before I leave. “I am at St. Mary’s Hospital.” I wasn’t sure what to say. Could I face him after all? Please, Alice. This is my dying wish.”The connection fell silent, and I sat there, the phone still in my hand, my mind racing. Should I go? What exactly would I say to him? I needed to think, but there wasn’t time. He was dying.

The next morning, I called in sick from work and sat in my kitchen, staring at my coffee. Should I tell mom? But he asked me not to.I called my best buddy, Jen. “Hey, can we talk?” “Of course.” “What’s up?””It’s… my father. “He called last night.” “Your father?” “The one who left?” “Yeah. “He’s dying and wants to see me.” “Wow. How do you feel about that?

“I do not know. Anger and confusion. He told me some things, Jen. “About my grandfather. “Like what?” “My grandfather paid him to go. He mentioned he was there for my graduation and games. “But he couldn’t approach us.””That is insane.” “What are you planning to do?” “I do not know. He wants me to come see him, but I’m not sure I can.Jen was silent for a moment. “Maybe you should leave. Get some answers. Closure.”

An old man in a hospital bed talking on a cell phone | Source: Midjourney

“I suppose. But I’m not sure I’m ready to confront him. “Take your time, but not for too long. “If he is dying…” “I understand. Thank you, Jennifer.” After hanging up, I sat down, deep in meditation. Jen was correct. Maybe I needed closure. I couldn’t continue living with these unresolved questions. And if he was really dying, I needed to see him.

I decided to visit the hospital. As I drove, I had flashbacks to my childhood. The pleasant times before he went, the confusion and sadness that followed. Mom never mentioned him, and the unsolved questions tortured me. I walked into the hospital room, feeling the weight of years of unsolved questions bear down on me. The beeping equipment created an unnerving beat in the sparse room. My father lay in the bed, looking frailer than I had ever imagined. When he spotted me, his eyes brightened up, and a faint smile formed on his lips.

“Alice,” he muttered, barely audible. “Hi, Dad.” I stood at the foot of the bed, unsure what to say. Anger and confusion swirled within of me, but seeing him like this, so defenseless, made it difficult to express them. “You came,” he replied, relief visible in his eyes. “I had to. “I needed to understand why.” “I know, and I’m so sorry for everything.” He extended a quivering hand, and I accepted it, feeling the cold, frail skin.”Why did you do this, Dad?

“Why did you take Grandpa’s money and leave us?”He sighed with a heavy, rattling sound. “I believed that was the greatest way to provide a future for you and your mother. I was a disaster, Alice. Addicted and broke. Your grandfather offered me an escape, a chance to provide you with a better life, even if it meant I couldn’t be a part of it.

A woman talking on a cell phone | Source: Pexels

“Do you realize how much it hurt us? “How much did it hurt me?” Tears welled in my eyes. “You’ve missed everything, Dad. My graduation, volleyball matches, and entire life.””I was there, Alice.” I am watching from afar. It pained my heart not to be with you, but I believed I was doing the right thing. He hesitated, fighting to breathe. “I attempted to make things right. I invested the money and created something that I hoped would benefit you.””Why didn’t you come back when you were better?”

“I can’t. Part of the bargain required me to stay away. But I did write to you, Alice. Letters are sent every year. They are in a safety deposit box. Here.” He gave me a little key. “Once I am gone, open it. You will find confirmation of everything, including the letters.”I grabbed the key, my fingers trembling. “Why now, Dad?” “Why are you telling me all of this now?”

“Because I am dying, and I cannot leave this planet without telling you the truth. I love you, Alice. I have always adored you.” Tears ran down my cheeks as I grasped his hand. “Dad, I needed you. “I needed my father.” “I know, and I’m sorry I wasn’t present. But I think you’ll understand why I did what I did after reading those letters.”We sat in silence, holding hands, with the machines’ beeping being the only sound in the room.

A woman in conversation on a cell phone | Source: Pexels

After a while, his breathing became laborious. He squeezed my hand one more time before leaving. I left the hospital with mixed emotions. Relief, indignation, sadness, and an unusual sense of closure. The following day, I returned to the bank and used the key to access the safety deposit box. Inside, I discovered stacks of bank paperwork and a bundle of letters, all addressed to me and dated over the years.

I brought the letters home and spent hours reading them. Each one was full of his regrets, love, and dreams for my future. He wrote about the business he founded, how he looked after me, and how proud he was of my accomplishments. By the time I finished the last letter, my rage had subsided into a deep, aching melancholy. With the financial paperwork, it was evident that my father had worked hard to protect my future.

The money he left behind was big enough to alter my life. But it wasn’t just about money. It was about comprehending his decisions, sacrifices, and love.I knew I needed to talk to my mom. I needed to hear her side of the tale. When I confronted her, she looked at me sadly.”I knew about the offer,” she said. “I did not stop it because I believed it was best for both of us. I believed you deserved a better life than your father could provide you at the time.”

A young woman close to an old man in a hospital bed | Source: Midjourney

“Why didn’t you ever tell me?” “I wanted to shield you from the truth, so you could remember him without hatred. Perhaps I was mistaken, but I did what I felt was right.Her revelation was another piece of the puzzle, allowing me to better grasp the intricate web of decisions that shaped my existence. In the end, I chose to utilize the money to establish a scholarship fund in my father’s name.

It seemed like the appropriate way to respect his legacy and accomplishments. It was a way to help others, just as he had attempted to help me.I felt peaceful when I launched the scholarship. The past was complicated and unpleasant, but it had led me to where I am now. And now that the truth was out in the open, I could move forward while recognizing both my father’s love and my mother’s sacrifice.

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