When my estranged father, who had left us twenty years ago, called from his deathbed, I was overwhelmed with a mix of anger and curiosity. His final wish was something I never expected, and what he revealed about his departure shattered everything I thought I knew.

It was late at night when my phone buzzed with an unfamiliar number. Hesitant but intrigued, I answered the call. “Hello?” A weak voice on the other end identified itself as my father. “Alice, I’m in the hospital. I don’t have much time.”

“Why are you calling now?” I asked, my voice tinged with bitterness.

“I need to explain. I took money from your grandfather, Harold, to disappear. He hated me and wanted someone better for your mother.”

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

I was stunned. “Grandpa paid you to leave us?”

“Yes. I was struggling with addictions and poor choices. Your grandfather saw a chance to rid himself of me, and I took it.”

“Why didn’t you come back?” I demanded, anger rising.

“I couldn’t. Part of the deal was that I had to stay away. But I watched from afar—your graduation, your volleyball games.”

“Why didn’t Mom ever tell me?”

“I don’t know. Maybe she wanted to protect you from hating me.”

“What do you want from me now?” I asked, trying to keep my voice steady.

“I need to see you one last time. I’m at St. Mary’s Hospital.”

The call ended, leaving me in turmoil. Should I go? My best friend, Jen, advised me to seek closure. Despite my reservations, I decided to visit him.

When I arrived, my father was frail and vulnerable. Seeing him like that made it difficult to voice my feelings. He reached out a trembling hand and explained he had invested the money to secure my future. He had written letters over the years, which were kept in a safety deposit box.

“I’m so sorry for everything,” he said, his voice fading. “I hope you’ll understand when you read the letters.”

After his passing, I opened the deposit box and read the letters. They revealed his regrets, his love, and his hopes for my future. The financial documents confirmed his efforts to secure my future.

I talked to my mother, who admitted she had known about the arrangement but kept it from me to shield me from bitterness.

Ultimately, I decided to honor my father’s memory by starting a scholarship fund in his name. This decision provided me with a sense of peace and closure, allowing me to move forward with a deeper understanding of my past.