It was her mother’s birthday, and Alice cherished these family gatherings. But this time her grandfather Ted hadn’t been invited. When Alice simply asked, “Why?” hermother snapped, a reaction that was unlike her. Alice sensed her grandfather neededhelp, and she was determined to offer it.
Alice sat at the dinner table, the warm glow of candles flickering around the room and casting shadows on the walls. Her parents, Lisa and Terry, were smiling and chatting, celebrating her mother’s birthday.
The table was covered in delicious dishes—roast chicken, mashed potatoes, and freshly baked bread.
The smell of the meal filled the air, comforting and familiar, yet Alice couldn’t focus on the joy around her. She sat quietly, picking at her food, her thoughts far away.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
As her parents laughed and shared stories, Alice’s mind kept drifting to someone who wasn’t there—her grandfather, Ted.
He had always been a part of family gatherings, and Alice missed him dearly. He would tell her amazing stories about his youth, or spin her around in the air until she felt like she could fly.
Grandpa Ted had a way of making her feel special, like she was the most important person in the world. But it had been over a year since Alice had last seen him, and she didn’t really know why.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
Her thoughts wandered back to the last time she had seen her mother and Grandpa Ted together. It was a memory she couldn’t forget—her mother shouting at him, her voice louder and angrier than Alice had ever heard.
Alice had been upstairs in her room, but the argument had echoed through the house.
Grandpa Ted had smelled strange that night, and he’d been acting a little off, stumbling over his words.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
Alice didn’t understand why, but her mother had seemed furious, yelling something about “broken promises” and “never again.” After that night, Grandpa Ted had disappeared from their lives.
Alice had kept quiet for a long time, hoping that her mother and Grandpa Ted would make up, and everything would go back to normal.
But now, sitting at the dinner table while everyone else celebrated, she couldn’t hold back her questions any longer.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
“Why isn’t Grandpa Ted here?” she asked, her voice soft but clear, cutting through the laughter.
The room went silent. Her parents stopped talking, and the warmth in the air seemed to cool in an instant. Lisa’s face changed, her smile fading as she glanced at Terry, who shifted in his chair, looking uncomfortable.
Lisa cleared her throat, taking a deep breath before answering. “Grandpa Ted isn’t coming, Alice. I don’t think he will for a long time.”
Alice’s heart sank. “Why not?” she asked, her voice trembling slightly. “What did he do?”
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
Lisa’s eyes hardened, and her voice became cold and firm. “Grandpa Ted made some bad decisions, and we don’t need to see him anymore. It’s better this way.”
Alice’s eyes widened in confusion. “But I miss him. Can’t we visit him? He’s still family.”
Before Lisa could respond, Terry gently placed his hand on hers. “Honey, but what about his kidney treatment? He cant afford it…”
“No,” Lisa interrupted, her tone sharp. “I don’t want to talk about him, not today.”
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
The tension in the room was thick, and Alice felt tears welling up in her eyes. She looked down at her plate, trying to hold back her emotions.
She loved her grandfather and couldn’t understand why her mother was so angry. What could he have done that was so terrible?
After a few moments of silence, Alice whispered, “May I be excused?”
Without waiting for an answer, she quietly stood up and left the table, her heart heavy. She made her way to her room, the tears finally spilling over as she closed the door behind her.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
Sitting at her desk, Alice wiped the tears from her eyes as the conversation from dinner replayed in her mind.
She couldn’t stop thinking about what her mother had said about Grandpa Ted. He had always been so kind to her, telling her stories and making her laugh.
Why was her mother so angry with him? Alice couldn’t understand it. She knew he had made mistakes, but wasn’t he still family? And now he was sick.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
She had overheard her father talking quietly to her mother about how Ted needed money for medication. Could that be why her mother was upset? Maybe she felt that Grandpa Ted didn’t deserve their help after what had happened.
But Alice didn’t feel that way. No matter what Grandpa Ted had done, she still loved him.
She couldn’t bear the thought of him being sick and alone, needing help, and not getting it. Her heart ached for him. She knew she had to do something—anything—to help him.
Her eyes drifted over to the small piggy bank sitting on her shelf. She had been saving money in it for months, dreaming of buying herself a new bicycle.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
She had almost enough to get the one she’d wanted for so long, but now, thinking of her grandfather, the bike didn’t seem as important anymore.
Slowly, Alice stood up and walked over to the piggy bank, holding it in her hands. It wasn’t much, but it was all she had.
For a moment, she hesitated. She really wanted that bike. But the image of her grandfather, sick and in need, wouldn’t leave her mind. He needed her more than she needed a bicycle.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
With a deep breath, Alice wrapped the piggy bank in a towel, then gently tapped it against the edge of her desk until it broke. The sound of the shattering ceramic seemed louder than she expected, but it didn’t matter.
She gathered up the coins and bills, carefully counting them before placing the money into her backpack. It wasn’t a lot, but it was everything she had. Hopefully, it would help Grandpa Ted.
Grabbing her jacket, Alice slipped it on and quietly opened her bedroom window. She knew if she asked her parents to go, they wouldn’t let her.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
It was late, and they were still upset. But she had made up her mind. She was going to help her grandfather, no matter what.
She climbed out of the window just like she used to do when she played outside and tiptoed across the yard to the bus stop.
The night air was chilly, and Alice shivered as she waited for the last bus of the night.
When it finally arrived, she paid for her ticket with some of the coins she had saved and sat down, watching the dark streets pass by. Soon, she would be at Grandpa Ted’s house. She just hoped she could make a difference.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
After what felt like forever, Alice finally arrived at Grandpa Ted’s house. The familiar sight of the old wooden door, with its peeling paint and the creaky porch she used to play on, made her heart race.
Memories flooded her mind—of summers spent there, of laughter and stories shared. But tonight, the house seemed quieter, sadder, as if it shared the weight of the unspoken feelings in her heart.
She hesitated for a moment, gripping the straps of her backpack tightly, then knocked gently on the door.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
Within seconds, the door creaked open, and Grandpa Ted appeared. His face, worn with age but still kind, lit up in surprise when he saw her.
“Alice! What are you doing here, sweetheart?” he exclaimed, stepping forward and wrapping her in a warm embrace.
Alice held on tight, not wanting to let go.
“I came to help you, Grandpa,” she whispered, pulling away slightly and fumbling with the zipper of her backpack. She pulled out the small stack of coins and bills she had brought, her life savings, and held them out to him. “Dad said you’re sick, and you need money for medicine. This is all I have.”
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
Grandpa Ted looked down at the money in her hands, his eyes filling with tears. For a moment, he was speechless. Finally, he spoke, his voice soft and thick with emotion.
“Oh, Alice,” he said, gently taking her hands in his. “This is the kindest thing anyone has ever done for me. But… I don’t think this money will be enough to cure what’s wrong. But what you’ve given me tonight is worth far more than any medicine—your love and care.”
Alice frowned, her eyes searching his face. “But I want to help. I want you to get better, Grandpa. You can’t be sick.”
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
Grandpa Ted smiled, though there was sadness in his eyes. “I’m afraid there’s nothing you can do, my dear. Some things, even love and money, can’t fix. But knowing that you care enough to come all this way for me? That means more than you can imagine.”
They sat together on the porch, the night air cool around them, but Alice felt warm being close to her grandfather. Ted quickly sent a message to the girl’s parents so they would know where she was.
After a few moments of quiet, Alice finally asked the question that had been bothering her for so long. “Grandpa, why is Mom so mad at you?”
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
Ted sighed deeply, as if the weight of his regret was pulling down on his shoulders.
“Your mom trusted me, Alice. She gave me money to help me get better, to stop drinking. But I did something terrible. I used that money to buy more alcohol, and it hurt her deeply. She had faith in me, and I let her down.”
Alice’s voice trembled as she asked, “Why did you do it?”
Ted looked down, ashamed. “Because I was weak, and I made a mistake,” he admitted.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
“I’ve regretted it every day since. I never wanted to hurt your mother. I just hope, one day, she can forgive me for what I did.”
They sat together in silence, the sound of the night settling in around them. Alice didn’t know how to fix everything, but at that moment, she knew her love was what mattered most.
Just as they were finishing their conversation, a car pulled up in front of the house. Alice’s parents had come looking for her, and Lisa was furious.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
“Alice, what were you thinking?” Lisa scolded. “You could have been hurt!”
Alice stood her ground, looking up at her mother. “I gave Grandpa all my money, Mom. He’s sorry for what he did. Can’t we help him?”
Lisa’s anger faltered as she looked at her daughter, and her heart softened. The sight of her little girl, more willing to forgive than she had been, melted away some of the bitterness she had carried for so long.
Lisa sighed and turned to her father. “Dad, if you stay sober, I’ll help you with the medication.”
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
Ted nodded, tears filling his eyes. “Thank you, Lisa.”
Alice smiled through her tears, knowing that she had helped bring her family back together. It wasn’t just about money—it was about love, forgiveness, and the hope of a fresh start.
My Dad Who Left 20 Years Ago Called from His Deathbed for a Final Wish — What He Asked Broke My Heart
My Dad Who Left 20 Years Ago Called from His Deathbed for a Final Wish — What He Asked Broke My Heart
When my estranged father, who left 20 years ago, called from his deathbed, I was torn between anger and curiosity. His final wish was something I never expected, and what he revealed about his disappearance shattered everything I thought I knew.
I was getting ready for bed when my phone buzzed on the nightstand. The number was unfamiliar, so I let it go to voicemail. Not even a minute later, a text came through: “ALICE, THIS IS YOUR DAD. PLEASE CALL, I AM IN THE HOSPITAL.”
A woman in her bedroom at night, looking at her phone | Source: Midjourney
My heart stopped. Dad? After twenty years? I sat on the edge of my bed, staring at the message. Part of me wanted to delete it and forget, but curiosity won. I called the number back.
“Hello?” The voice was weak, barely audible.
“Dad?”
“Alice, it’s me. I… I don’t have much time.”
“Why are you calling now?” My voice was harsher than I intended.
“I need to explain… to ask something of you. But please, don’t tell your mother.”
Doctors standing beside a hospital bed, looking concerned | Source: Pexels
There it was, the same secrecy that defined my childhood. “What do you want?”
He took a shaky breath. “I left because your grandfather, Harold, paid me to disappear. He hated me, thought I was a failure. He found someone else for your mom, someone better.”
I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. “Grandpa? He did that?”
“Yes. I was struggling back then. Addictions, bad decisions. Your grandfather saw a chance to get rid of me, and I took the money.”
A sick-looking man lying in bed | Source: Pexels
“So you just left us for money?” Anger bubbled up.
“I know it sounds awful. But I invested that money, built a business. It was all for you, Alice. To secure your future.”
“Why didn’t you ever come back?”
“Part of the deal. I couldn’t approach you or your mom. But I was there, watching. I saw your graduation, your volleyball games. I was always there, just… from a distance.”
I felt like my world was tilting. “Why didn’t Mom ever tell me?”
An old man in a hospital bed talking on a cell phone | Source: Midjourney
“I don’t know. Maybe she didn’t want you to hate him. Or maybe she thought she was protecting you.”
“What do you want now?” I asked, my voice trembling.
“I need to see you, Alice. One last time before I go. I’m at St. Mary’s Hospital.”
I didn’t know what to say. Could I face him after everything?
“Please, Alice. It’s my dying wish.”
The exterior of a hospital building at night | Source: Midjourney
The line went silent, and I sat there, the phone still in my hand, my thoughts tumbling. Should I go? What would I even say to him? I needed to think, but there was no time. He was dying.
The next morning, I called in sick to work and sat in my kitchen, staring at my coffee. Should I tell Mom? But he’d asked me not to.
I called my best friend, Jen. “Hey, can we talk?”
“Of course. What’s up?”
A woman talking on a cell phone | Source: Pexels
“It’s… it’s my dad. He called last night.”
“Your dad? The one who left?”
“Yeah. He’s dying, and he wants to see me.”
“Wow. How do you feel about that?”
“I don’t know. Angry, confused. He told me things, Jen. About my Grandpa.”
“Like what?”
“That my grandfather paid him to leave. He said he was there at my graduation, my games. But he couldn’t approach us.”
“That’s insane. What are you going to do?”
“I don’t know. He wants me to visit him, but I’m not sure I can.”
A woman in conversation on a cell phone | Source: Pexels
Jen was silent for a moment. “Maybe you should go. Get some answers. Closure.”
“I guess. But I don’t know if I’m ready to face him.”
“Take your time, but don’t take too long. If he’s dying…”
“I know. Thanks, Jen.”
After hanging up, I sat back, deep in thought. Jen was right. Maybe I did need closure. I couldn’t keep living with these unanswered questions. And if he really was dying… I had to see him.
A woman driving a car | Source: Pexels
I decided to go to the hospital. As I drove, memories of my childhood flashed through my mind. The good times before he left, the confusion and pain afterward. The way Mom never spoke about him, the unanswered questions that haunted me.
I walked into the hospital room, feeling the weight of years and unanswered questions pressing down on me. The beeping machines filled the stark room with an unsettling rhythm. My dad lay in the bed, looking more frail than I had ever imagined. His eyes lit up when he saw me, a weak smile forming on his lips.
An old man sitting up in a hospital bed | Source: Midjourney
“Alice,” he whispered, his voice barely audible.
“Hi, Dad.” I stood at the foot of the bed, not sure what to say. Anger and confusion swirled inside me, but seeing him like this, so vulnerable, made it hard to voice them.
“You came,” he said, relief evident in his eyes.
“I had to. I needed to understand why.”
“I know, and I’m so sorry for everything.” He reached out a trembling hand, and I took it, feeling the cold, fragile skin.
A young woman close to an old man in a hospital bed | Source: Midjourney
“Why did you do it, Dad? Why did you take Grandpa’s money and leave us?”
He sighed, a deep, rattling sound. “I thought it was the best way to secure a future for you and your mother. I was a mess, Alice. Addicted, broke. Your grandfather offered me a way out, a chance to give you a better life, even if it meant I couldn’t be part of it.”
“Do you know how much that hurt us? How much it hurt me?” Tears welled up in my eyes. “You missed everything, Dad. My graduation, my volleyball games, my entire life.”
A woman with tears in her eyes | Source: Midjourney
“I was there, Alice. Watching from afar. It broke my heart not to be with you, but I thought I was doing the right thing.” He paused, struggling for breath. “I tried to make it right. I invested the money, built something that I hoped would help you.”
“Why didn’t you come back when you were better?”
“I couldn’t. Part of the deal was that I had to stay away. But I wrote to you, Alice. Letters, every year. They’re in a safety deposit box. Here.” He handed me a small key. “After I’m gone, open it. You’ll find proof of everything, and the letters.”
A small key in the palm of a hand | Source: Pexels
I took the key, my fingers trembling. “Why now, Dad? Why tell me all this now?”
“Because I’m dying, and I can’t leave this world without you knowing the truth. I love you, Alice. I’ve always loved you.”
Tears streamed down my face as I gripped his hand. “I needed you, Dad. I needed my father.”
“I know, and I’m so sorry I wasn’t there. But I hope you’ll understand why I did what I did when you read those letters.”
An apparently comatose figure in a hospital bed | Source: Pexels
We sat in silence, holding hands, the machines’ beeping the only sound in the room. After a while, his breathing became more labored. He squeezed my hand one last time, and then he was gone.
I left the hospital feeling a mix of emotions. Relief, anger, sadness, and a strange sense of closure. The next day, I went to the bank and used the key to open the safety deposit box. Inside, I found stacks of financial documents and a bundle of letters, each one addressed to me, dated over the years.
A corridor of safety deposit boxes | Source: Midjourney
I took the letters home and spent hours reading them. Each one was filled with his regrets, his love, his hopes for my future. He wrote about the business he built, how he watched over me, how proud he was of my achievements.
By the time I finished the last letter, my anger had softened into a deep, aching sadness.
With the financial documents, it was clear that my father had indeed worked hard to secure my future. The money he left behind was substantial, enough to change my life. But it wasn’t just about the money. It was about understanding his choices, his sacrifices, and his love.
A woman takes up a hand-written letter | Source: Pexels
I knew I had to talk to my mom. I needed to know her side of the story. When I confronted her, she looked at me with sad eyes.
“I knew about the offer,” she admitted. “I didn’t stop it because I thought it was best for you too. I thought you deserved a better life than what your father could give you at that time.”
“Why didn’t you ever tell me?”
“I wanted to protect you from the truth, to let you remember him without bitterness. Maybe I was wrong, but I did what I thought was best.”
An elderly woman looking down thoughtfully | Source: Pexels
Her confession was another piece of the puzzle, helping me to understand the complex web of decisions that shaped my life.
In the end, I decided to use the money to start a scholarship fund in my father’s name. It felt like the right way to honor his memory and his efforts. It was a way to help others, just as he had tried to help me.
As I launched the scholarship, I felt a sense of peace. The past was complicated and painful, but it had brought me to where I was. And now, with the truth out in the open, I could move forward, honoring both my father’s love and my mother’s sacrifices.
A woman making calculations with a pen in hand | Source: Pexels
Leave a Reply