When a call came from an unknown number, followed by a text saying, “ALICE, THIS IS YOUR DAD. PLEASE CALL, I AM IN THE HOSPITAL.” My heart skipped a beat. It had been twenty years since my estranged father walked out on us, and now he was reaching out from his deathbed. I was torn between anger and curiosity, but curiosity won, and I called him back.
“Dad?” I said, my voice trembling with emotions.
“Alice, it’s me. I… I don’t have much time,” he replied softly.
“Why are you calling now? After all these years?” I couldn’t help but ask, my anger still lingering.
He sighed. “I need to explain… to ask something of you. But please, don’t tell your mother.” And that’s when he revealed the shocking truth.
My grandfather had paid him to disappear because he believed Dad was a failure. “I took the money to secure your future,” he confessed, his voice filled with remorse.
“Why didn’t you come back?” I demanded, trying to digest this unexpected revelation.
“I couldn’t,” he whispered. “But I’ve always watched from a distance. I saw your graduation, your volleyball games.”
The world as I knew it began to crumble. “Why didn’t Mom tell me?” I asked, feeling betrayed by both of them.
“Maybe she thought she was protecting you,” he replied, his voice heavy with regret.
“What do you want now?” I asked, my anger slowly giving way to sympathy.
“I need to see you, Alice. One last time before I go,” he pleaded.
After much contemplation, I decided to grant him his final wish. When I arrived at the hospital, he looked frail and weak. But there was still love in his eyes as he whispered my name.
“Why did you do it, Dad?” I asked, my voice filled with a mix of emotions.
He took a deep breath. “I thought it was the best way to secure a future for you. I wrote letters every year, pouring out my regrets and love for you. They’re in a safety deposit box,” he revealed, his voice filled with sadness.
After his passing, I discovered the letters he had left behind. Each one was a testament to his love and sacrifice. Overwhelmed by a mix of emotions, I confronted my mother, who tearfully admitted that she had believed it was best for me as well.
In the end, I used the money he had taken to start a scholarship fund in his name. It was my way of honoring his memory and the sacrifices he had made for me. Dad may have been absent for most of my life, but he had ultimately left behind a lasting legacy of love and devotion.
