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
My In-Laws’ Christmas Gift Felt like a Slap in the Face
When Alicia and Matt’s Christmas holiday trip to Jamaica is canceled due to his father’s open-heart surgery, they decide that spending time with the family is more important. Weeks later, Nancy, Matt’s mother, promises the couple a gift… only to take it back later and replace it with something unexpected.
Every family has its quirks, but my husband’s family is exceptional. They’re the kind who do everything together, who share big plans, and who never think twice about helping out.
I’d always admired that sense of closeness; it wasn’t something that I was used to with my own family. So, I was grateful for how they had welcomed me into their own.
A smiling woman | Source: Midjourney
“Your family is the best gift you could have given me, Matt,” I told my husband early on in our relationship.
“Alicia, they’re your family now, too. You can count on them for whatever you need. I promise you, they’ll always be there for you. Especially my mom.”
And you know what? I believed him.
A smiling couple | Source: Midjourney
This year, we planned a holiday of our own—a Christmas trip to Jamaica. It was supposed to be a special reset for us after months of long hours at work, endless bills, and a list of stressors we hadn’t been able to shake. We found a website that offered a great discount, and before we knew it, we were booked and almost ready to go.
All we wanted was to let our hair down, drink cocktails on the beach, and get in as much sunshine as we could.
But in early November, my father-in-law, Derek, suffered a heart attack, and within days, he was scheduled for open-heart surgery.
A man sleeping in a hospital bed | Source: Midjourney
We didn’t think twice about staying. Derek was Matt’s biggest supporter, and we knew that if the roles were reversed, Derek would be the first one at his bedside.
Losing our vacation was nothing if it meant being there to support Matt’s family. And if I’m honest, being with them at Christmas felt like the right thing to do. We could have our beach vacation another time.
After Derek’s surgery, we all settled into a new holiday plan: Christmas at home, but together.
A man sleeping on a couch | Source: Midjourney
“It’s nothing that different from our usual Christmas plans,” Matt said as he read the messages on the family group chat. “At least we’ll all be together, and Dad will get the support he needs.”
“I agree,” I said. “And I’ll make all his favorites, just heart-condition-friendly versions of them.”
A few weeks after Thanksgiving, my mother-in-law, Nancy, called and mentioned they wanted to do something extra for us. Of course, I didn’t expect anything, but her offer took me by surprise.
A couple sitting at a table | Source: Midjourney
She said she and Derek would be giving us a generous gift.
“Nancy, please, you don’t have to do anything,” I said.
“Alicia, just listen, darling,” she said. “Let me speak. I know that you and Matt have been going through so much this year, especially when the plumbing needed to be sorted out. It’s been heavy…”
An older woman talking on the phone | Source: Midjourney
“It hasn’t been easy, Nancy,” I said. “You’re right. But we did get most of our trip refunded, so we’re good.”
“Darling, stop,” she said. “Derek and I talked, and we’d like to offer you some financial help. Use it however you need, okay?”
When she told me the amount, I nearly fainted. They were offering us the equivalent of a full month’s salary.
I felt my voice catch.
A woman talking on the phone | Source: Midjourney
“Are you serious?” I managed, barely believing it.
“Of course, darling,” she replied warmly. “We know you and Matt had a hard year. We want to help you two catch up.”
I hung up the phone, practically in tears. For the first time in ages, I felt relief instead of worry. I imagined what this money could mean for us.
A woman holding her phone | Source: Midjourney
We could catch up on bills, pay off credit card debt, maybe even have a little left over for something fun. It was a gift that meant security, peace, and breathing room.
For the first two weeks, I felt lighter than I had in ages. I pictured us on a holiday without the burden of stress hanging over us. I even allowed myself to imagine having enough left over to start saving again.
For the first time, our financial worries seemed less overwhelming.
A smiling woman daydreaming | Source: Midjourney
But then, everything changed with a single text.
Matt and I were sitting down to breakfast when he got a message from his mom. He was salting his eggs when his phone buzzed, rattling the cutlery on the table.
Hi darling, Dad and I have changed our minds a bit on the Christmas gift. We’ve decided that instead of the money, we thought you & Ali would enjoy a weekend at a spa. We’ve prepaid it already. January.
Food on a table | Source: Midjourney
“What?” I whispered, reading the message over Matt’s shoulder, my face hot.
“They didn’t mention anything about this before,” Matt mumbled, scrolling back through the message thread as if he’d missed a message from his mother.
The phone chimed again.
A man using his phone | Source: Midjourney
We decided to cover Maddie and Josh’s accommodation in Italy this summer. They’re planning a big family trip. We thought it would be a nice way to make sure they could join us! xx
As the meaning of the words sank in, I felt like I’d been slapped across the face.
“They… they’re just going to take it back?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper. “The money, the promise… they’re just dropping it for a spa weekend?
A spa setting | Source: Midjourney
Matt looked at me, clearly at a loss.
“I don’t know what to say. They probably thought it’d be… you know, relaxing for us?” he said.
Relaxing?
I imagined Maddie and Josh taking photos in Italy, sending them to the family group chat for us to see…
A couple in Italy | Source: Midjourney
I felt my hands clench as the weight of this entire thing hit me. I’d been holding onto this promise for weeks now. I had pictured how we’d finally get out of our financial rut, and now we’d been handed a weekend of massages and facials instead.
I struggled to hold my composure.
“Matt,” I began. “You know that I’m not ungrateful…”
A woman getting a facial | Source: Midjourney
I began pacing the kitchen as I tried to gather my thoughts.
“It’s just… that money was a solution. It was something real, something we could count on to make things easier. Now, they’re giving us a spa weekend? And… paying for accommodation in Italy?”
“I get it, Alicia. I get it, babe, trust me,” Matt replied, running a hand through his hair. “But it’s hard. They’re trying to do something nice, you know?”
A man holding his head | Source: Midjourney
“Are they?” I shot back, frustrated. “Or are they just throwing money at something flashy because they don’t actually understand what we need? Your sister’s going to Italy with them, Matt. Italy. With her boyfriend. And she earns way more than I make in a month.”
Matt was silent as he buttered his toast slowly.
“We’re over here barely scraping by, Matt. I don’t know what else to tell you. I’m just disappointed. I wasn’t banking on the money, but I just imagined all the stress being… removed from our lives.”
Buttered toast on a plate | Source: Midjourney
I sank back down into my seat. I wanted to put my head down and cry. I felt like I’d just lost something so important to me. But in reality, it wasn’t even mine to feel the loss over.
The money was Nancy and Derek’s. We had no claim over it at all.
Matt sighed and leaned closer to me, his shoulders touching mine.
An upset woman | Source: Midjourney
“I don’t know, love,” he said. “Maybe they do see it that way. I don’t think they understand what it’s like to struggle. My sister’s never had to worry, and Mom and Dad don’t live in our reality.”
Part of me wanted to pick up the phone and call my mother-in-law, to tell her exactly how I felt. I imagined the conversation, my words measured and calm.
I would explain that her change of plans felt hurtful, that throwing around large sums only to take them back seemed thoughtless.
A woman holding her head | Source: Midjourney
I imagined saying something like, “Look, we don’t need a spa weekend. I don’t need a spa weekend. I need help.”
But how would that go? Would she understand, or would she just think I was ungrateful? Would she tell me I was spoiled for wanting more than they offered?
A woman with her hands on her hips | Source: Midjourney
As I ran through the possible outcomes in my mind, another thought crept in. Christmas with Matt’s family had always felt lavish, almost alien to Matt’s and my current financial reality.
His parents loved to surprise everyone with over-the-top gifts, like high-end gadgets and designer clothes.
Meanwhile, I was trying my best to keep up with it all, to pretend I wasn’t doing mental calculations every time they handed me something expensive.
A pile of Christmas presents | Source: Midjourney
I didn’t want to be that person, but the discomfort lingered, year after year. This time, though, it wasn’t about receiving something over the top.
It was about a broken promise, one that could have changed things for us.
I looked at my now-cold cup of coffee, feeling nauseous.
Matt finally spoke, his tone gentle.
A cup of coffee on a table | Source: Midjourney
“Look, if it’s really bothering you, maybe we should talk to them. I’ll go with you. We can tell them how we’re feeling without sounding so rude.”
I shook my head.
“No, love,” I said. “I understand… and it wouldn’t help. We’ll just come across as being petty or greedy. They won’t understand why this hurts us.”
A woman with her hand on her head | Source: Midjourney
Matt didn’t argue, but I could see the sadness in his eyes.
He knew as well as I did that this wasn’t just about the gift. It was about feeling overlooked, like our struggles didn’t matter in the world they lived in.
It was about a reminder that we’d never truly belong to the same world.
I took a deep breath.
A man looking sad | Source: Midjourney
“We’ll accept the spa weekend,” I said, the words coming out flat, resigned. “We’ll go, and we’ll pretend it’s everything we wanted. Because that’s what they expect. It’s easier that way, right?”
Matt’s hand found mine.
“I’m so sorry, my love,” he said. “I wish I could fix this.”
I looked at him, fighting back tears.
A couple holding hands | Source: Midjourney
“I know you do, Matt,” I said. “I just wish… I wish they understood us a little more. That’s all.”
And with that, I realized the real gift I wanted wasn’t money or a spa weekend. It was understanding, a sense of connection that went beyond their gestures.
And somehow, I knew that was the one thing they’d never be able to give us.
A couple sitting together | Source: Midjourney
What would you have done?
If you enjoyed this story, here’s another for you |
My Stepmother ‘Gifted’ Me an Old, Smelly Couch — When She Saw What I Did With It, She Demanded $2,500 From Me
When Nicole’s stepmother calls her saying that she has a gift for her, Nicole goes over excitedly. But when she discovers what the gift is, Nicole is torn between keeping her father happy or retaliating. Finally, she accepts it and plans to transform it into something completely different. In the end Nicole is ready to claim the rewards of her hard work.
Ever have one of those moments where you should’ve just trusted your gut? Yep, that was me, standing in my stepmother’s basement, staring at the ugliest, smelliest couch I’d ever seen.
A close up of a young woman | Source: Midjourney
My stepmother, Susan, called me earlier that morning with a grand gesture for my birthday. She insisted that she had a “priceless” gift that was too big for her to move alone.
“You’re going to love it, Nicole!” she said. “It’s absolutely priceless! Come over later today, and we’ll show it to you.”
Now, this is the point when I tell you that Susan and I had never been close. In fact, if I’m being honest, she barely tolerated my existence. So, imagine my absolute surprise when she offered me a gift.
A smiling woman | Source: Midjourney
“Curiosity killed the cat, Nic,” I said to myself as I got into the car.
This work is inspired by real events and people, but it has been fictionalized for creative purposes. Names, characters, and details have been changed to protect privacy and enhance the narrative. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.
The author and publisher make no claims to the accuracy of events or the portrayal of characters and are not liable for any misinterpretation. This story is provided “as is,” and any opinions expressed are those of the characters and do not reflect the views of the author or publisher.
Leave a Reply