My Dad Didn’t Even Come to My mother’s Funeral He Came Back With Terrible Disease After 30-years

I’m a full-time housewife in my 50s, living with my son and daughter in their 20s. Young people may think it’s strange, but for a long while, my dream was to become a full-time housewife, to make a happy family. One may question why I didn’t want to develop myself by testing the waters in society, and instead wanting to just settle for being a full-time housewife. But I long to have a happy family the most.

My unhappy upbringing played a large part. I was born into an unhappy family. As the eldest daughter, my father was a taxi driver, but he was more interested in playing than working. My mother scoffed at him as the worthless flounderer. She had to earn a living instead of my father. She worked as a babysitter, taking care of other people’s children but neglecting her own. We were always struggling in poverty due to the absence of Parental care from Young.

My younger brother was out in the streets causing trouble and ran away from home often, growing up as a truant. On the other hand, I became very introverted, who was wary of even anyone talking to me. I became a Wallflower. I wasn’t good at studying and since we were poor going to college was out of any consideration. However, I graduated from all girls’ technician high school and luckily got hired at a bank. At that time, working for a bank was considered a prestigious job equivalent to a government job, so I was very proud of myself.

For the first time in my life, I met my husband at work. I worked as a bank clerk while my husband worked as a loan officer. He wasn’t an outgoing person but he had a strong sense of responsibility, for which I felt attracted to him. Since I was very shy, approaching my husband wasn’t easy. I only admired him from a distance. However, one day I got a lucky chance to meet his mother.

I was working at the window serving customers as usual. A middle-aged woman came up and I served her kindly. She happened to be the mother of the man I had a crush on. She seemed to like my service and she often sought after me whenever she came to the bank. However, I was the only one who didn’t know who she was. After a month, she said she wanted to treat me to lunch. I politely declined because the bank’s policy forbids personal meeting with bank customers. Only then she revealed herself in truth, “The assistant manager, Jason, is my son.

Will you please have lunch with my son just once?” When she said that, I was so shocked that I got goosebumps. That’s how I got to go out to eat with the man I secretly admired. After that day, we naturally became close and his mother asked me to date her son formally. Internally, I wanted to say yes right away, but I didn’t want to be caught being so willing. I asked for time to think it over. A few days later, I said I would, and that’s how our relationship started.

Since I had received my mother-in-law’s approval in advance, a relationship growing toward our marriage was not that difficult. After dating for a while, we got married. After we got married, I continued to work for a while, but I quit my job when I got pregnant with our first child. People around me tried to talk me out of outright quitting a good job, but I made a bold decision because I wanted to raise my baby myself. Fortunately, my husband agreed, and after the baby was born, I spent Happy Days as a full-time homemaker.

However, something unexpected happened with my parents. My mother, who had been the sole wage earner for the family, announced a divorce as she no longer could endure it on her own. At that time, my younger brother was preparing a shotgun wedding due to his girlfriend’s surprising pregnancy. What broke the camel’s back was my younger brother’s added burden for his wedding that fell solely on my mom. My brother had no earnings as he had just been discharged from service. The problem was money.

As an older sister, I couldn’t help because my husband was the only one working, and raising a baby increased our household expenses. My dad was absolutely of no help. When my mom was struggling for money, getting married is his own responsibility. His sister never asked for any handout when she got married. “You are too soft on him,” my dad criticized my mom. “Aren’t you ashamed to say that when you yourself do not help out in this household? You should be the one who shouldn’t ask me for any money.

I got you the taxi to earn money, but why are you just going around and spending my money?” My parents had endless fights and eventually announced that they will divorce right after my younger brother’s wedding. My brother accepted it as a matter of course, but it wasn’t easy for me. On the other hand, I knew that my dad wouldn’t change, so I didn’t try to stop their divorce either.

Thus, my parents got divorced, and my mother took out the deposit from the lease to rent an apartment for my brother’s newlywed abode. She used the balance to rent a studio for herself. I was worried about my mom being alone, and for a while, I went by her place. However, my mom said that she now felt more at peace and told me just to concentrate on my own family. My dad left without a word after the divorce, and the rest of us even changed our phone numbers in case he tried to call because it would only be about either money or his accident. That’s how we went our separate ways.

I had another daughter, and with two children, time just flew. I thought having four years of age difference would be good enough to handle, but still, they required all my attention with a lot of work. Fortunately, my husband was a strong backbone of the family, and I felt proud despite the hard work.

Then one day, my mom called me. She had been suffering from indigestion and took some antacids that put her in the emergency on an ambulance. She was diagnosed with stomach cancer. The cancer had spread to other organs already, so it was futile to have any surgeries. She passed away four months after she was diagnosed with terminal cancer. I didn’t have any good portrait photo of her, so I had to use the one on my mobile phone.

As I sat at her funeral and looked at the photo, tears kept flowing. I felt so sorry for my mom, who worked so hard day and night to take care of our family without any help from our dad. My husband said we should look for our dad before my mom’s wake service, but I boldly refused. I felt it was useless to look for him, who caused nothing but pain to our mom. My husband mumbled as if he understood, but he looked uneasy. I asked him if anything bothered him, but he denied it.

On the second day of the wake service, my husband told my younger brother and me that we had no more guests coming and asked us to go get some sleep as he would be at watch for the wake service. My brother and I went into a small room attached to the funeral parlor.

Since my mom’s burial would be in the morning the next day, the funeral was over after the burial. Then, my daughter said that late at night, someone came to the wake service. I suddenly got a bad feeling and asked my husband if my dad had come last night.

He denied it and said it was someone he knew who arrived late and left after leaving some money as a convalescence gift for the family. I still had doubts and asked my younger brother if he saw our dad’s name on the money gift envelope. My brother told me not to be so sensitive, since he didn’t see any signs of our dad on the visitor’s book nor any gift envelopes. Only then, I realized that I was being too hard.

Time passed, and we returned to our usual routine. My oldest son got drafted and went into military service. I was nervous whether he might get hurt while at the boot camp. On my way back home after driving him to the train station, I felt empty and lonely. His 21 months of service seemed so long.

When I got home, I saw a familiar taxi in front of our house. I wanted to say a word for trespassing and approach the taxi to find our dad inside. My dad got out of the taxi, and he looked a lot different from before. He looked small, with his hair now all gray. He smiled awkwardly at me.

I was so shocked that I was speechless. I bluntly yelled at him, asking why he had come, and my husband stopped me, telling me to go inside to talk because of the neighbors. I had no choice but to let our father inside. “Then, would you believe what he said? ‘From now on, I need to stay here for a while,'” my dad put his stuff on the floor and looked around our house as if looking for a room to use.

“What are you saying? When you were younger, you leached off our mother, and now you want to do that to me. For how long do you plan to suck the blood out of your family? I have no intention to have you live here!” However, my father just ignored me and continued to look around. Then he said, “Is this Tom’s room? I will use this room while it’s vacant.

” Then he took us back to enter my son’s room. That’s when I blocked his way. “How dare you go inside that room! Leave my house right now!” I pushed my father out the door and stood in front of it to block him from coming in. However, my husband ran over and pulled me toward the living room. “Come down,” he said, “it’s just temporary.” How could I calm down for an instant? My husband looked suspicious.

“Honey, are you hiding something from me? Have you been in contact with my dad behind my back?” At my inquisition, my husband remained silent. Then he took me to our bedroom and told me about an incident that happened about five years ago. My husband had to call a taxi for his work, and it happened to be my father’s taxi. Dad said he had been worried about my mom, my younger brother, and me, so they exchanged phone numbers. If it was five years ago, it was before my mom’s funeral.

I then realized why my husband had brought up my dad for the funeral. So, I asked him if my dad had come to the funeral. My husband, who had denied it, then finally told me the truth. Even though my dad was worse than a stranger, my husband felt obliged to let my dad know about my mom’s funeral.

Then my father had begged my husband to allow his last farewell to his wife. Even though he had been a bad husband, my husband couldn’t say no and let my dad come by when we were asleep. When I heard that, I became furious. I ran over to my son’s bedroom to find him snoring on the bed. I was ready to wake him up to kick him out of the house when I noticed the wedding ring on his finger.

That affected me, and I couldn’t bring myself to wake him up. Since he was already asleep, I decided to send him away in the morning. When I came out of the room, my daughter, who was studying for the college exam, complained about the noise, as it broke her concentration on studying. I apologized and asked her to go inside to study. “These days we have to tread carefully on waters due to our lovely sensitive kid preparing for college,” I told myself. “I have to endure her hysteria until her SAT exam is over.”

The next morning, my husband and daughter left, and just my dad and I remained in the house. Neither of us spoke. After I finished doing the dishes, I went to my son’s room and told my dad, “I don’t want to fight with you, so just leave now. Even if you stake yourself out here, I have no money to give you.” “Did I ask you for money? Why are you bringing out money just like your mother? I didn’t come to get money out of you.

” “Why is it that you hate me so much? I could understand if it was your brother, since I yelled at him so much for getting into trouble and spanked him. But didn’t you and I get along well enough?” It was true. I had gotten along well enough without any clashes between my dad and me. However, daughters usually side with their mothers, and growing up, I also took my mom’s side. “I may have sided with my mom when I was young.

But even then, didn’t I wait for you in the evenings to come home from work? I even got you water when you got too drunk. You really don’t remember anything.” “Really? Did you do that? Why don’t I remember anything?” “You don’t remember because you were always drunk. You never came home once sober. And you want to come into my son’s room after leaving us without a word and asking why I am kicking you out? I don’t even remember once you coming home without a drink!” My dad said, “So I just drank once in a while to forget about our money troubles.

Can’t I even do that? I was also under tremendous stress because of money. I would drink because my heart was heavy. What’s the big deal?” “You couldn’t handle stress? What about my mom? She worked like a slave while going to elementary school for me, and she was also our breadwinner. How could she handle it all? You dare say you worked so hard?” “So you are saying I am worse than your mom? Aren’t you being too harsh?” “What I’m saying is that my mom worked so hard that she often came home so tired that she slept without any food. I, as a daughter, thought she worked so hard because she loved us.

But what about you? You came home smelling of alcohol and collapsed wherever you felt like. Did you even once think of us?” My dad looked at me as if he were struck dumb. “What I’m saying is that I saw it all. That’s why I hated you so much. Every time you came home drunk, I prayed for you not to come home at all. That’s why I don’t want you here. If you want to have your own child’s feelings for your dad and show that you are a kind father, just leave. It’s still not too late to mend your ways.”

My dad looked as if he were lost. However, I wasn’t going to be swayed by his expressions. I took his things and put them outside. “Why are you doing this to me? At least tell me where you are sending me.” “Just leave. I don’t care where you go or what you do. It’s none of my business.” “What about when I don’t have money? You’re not going to help me out, just like your mom?” “My mom had nothing to do with me.

It’s just that after she divorced you, she had nothing. I don’t even have any savings. So, even if you beg me for money, I have nothing to give you.” After I put his things outside, my dad left, looking as if he were about to collapse. When I went into the house, my husband and daughter were back. I felt sorry that I hadn’t cooked for my daughter as she studied. So, I told my husband to go out and buy something for our daughter. Then, I heard my husband say something to my daughter as he was getting dressed.

“Now that you are going to college soon, why don’t you live separately in a dorm? Your mom doesn’t want us to live together with your grandpa.” My daughter said, “I am not going to live in a dorm. You can live separately from grandpa, but I’m going to stay here.” My husband was angry with me as he came out of the bedroom. “Why are you telling our daughter to live separately? She says she is going to live here, so let her be.” “Don’t you remember that I told you last night? My dad came by last night.” My husband looked surprised.

“Is that why you’re so angry?” “Yes. I can’t believe you. You let my dad in behind my back, and when he acted as if it were his own home, you never once stopped him.” My husband had a blank expression on his face. “You are only good for deceiving someone.” “I didn’t deceive you.” “You did deceive me. I asked if my dad had come, and you said it was someone you knew. You even said you exchanged phone numbers.” “That’s because he had to call a taxi for his work. So I called him a few times, and we talked.

He asked how you and your younger brother were doing, and that’s when I told him about your mom’s funeral.” “You didn’t do that because you were sorry for him, did you?” My husband remained silent. “How many times have I told you? I don’t want to see my dad.” “I didn’t do it on purpose.” “I don’t care what you meant. You are really good at lying.” My husband glared at me. “Fine, if you don’t believe me, then forget about it. I won’t ever contact him again.” “No, you can’t do that now. You already let him in.” “What do you want me to do?” “Leave.

Our daughter and I will live separately. My mom died and my dad came back. It’s a burden on our daughter.” “Our daughter already said she wants to stay.” “How can you be sure about that? She is just saying that because she doesn’t want to make you angry.” “She’s your daughter. She takes after you, so she’s also stubborn like you.”

“What are you trying to say?” “I’m saying our daughter is going to stay here.” “Why? You think you can handle our daughter all by yourself?” “I can handle her just fine. I’m saying you should leave. We will be better off without you.” “Where are you going to go if I leave?” “That’s my problem, not yours. So just go.” My husband glared at me as if he were about to attack me. “You are going to regret this.” “I’m not going to regret it. Just go.” My husband left, taking his clothes with him.

My husband left, taking his clothes with him. I didn’t care about his threats. I was determined to stand my ground. The next few days were tense in the house. My daughter and I tried to avoid each other as much as possible, both feeling the weight of the situation. I kept thinking about my dad and the turmoil he had caused by coming back into our lives.

One morning, my daughter came into the kitchen as I was making breakfast. She had a serious expression on her face. “Mom, can we talk?” she asked hesitantly. “Of course,” I replied, trying to keep my tone neutral.

“I know you’re angry at grandpa for coming back,” she began. “But can I ask you something? Have you ever thought about why he came back?”

I sighed. “I know he said something about wanting to make amends, but honestly, I can’t understand why he would come back after all these years.”

“Maybe he’s not as bad as you think,” she said gently. “I’ve been talking to him, and he’s told me a lot about his past and his struggles. He’s admitted that he made mistakes, but he’s also trying to make things right.”

I looked at my daughter, surprised by her words. “You’ve been talking to him?”

“Yeah, he’s been picking me up from school and we’ve been chatting. He’s not the person you remember from the past. He’s changed, Mom.”

I felt a mix of emotions. Part of me wanted to believe her, but the other part was still holding onto the resentment and anger that had built up over the years. “It’s not that simple, honey. You don’t know what he put our family through.”

“I know, Mom. But people can change. And I can see that he’s genuinely trying. He’s been helping me with my studies and giving me advice. He’s been a good listener.”

I was torn between my daughter’s words and my own past experiences. It was hard to let go of the anger I had held onto for so long. But seeing my daughter’s earnestness made me consider the possibility that maybe people could change.

Over the next few weeks, my daughter continued to spend time with my dad, and I started to notice a change in her demeanor. She seemed happier and more at ease. It was as if a weight had been lifted off her shoulders. One evening, she asked if we could all sit down and talk.

“I know this has been difficult for both of you,” she began. “And I’ve seen how much pain it’s causing. But I believe that we should give grandpa a chance. He’s really trying, and he’s been there for me when I needed someone to talk to.”

My dad looked at me with a hopeful expression, and for the first time, I felt a glimmer of uncertainty in my resolve. Could I really continue to hold onto my anger and keep my daughter from forming a relationship with her grandfather?

“I don’t know if I’m ready to fully forgive and forget,” I admitted, “but I can see that he’s making an effort. Maybe we can try to rebuild our relationship slowly.”

My dad’s face lit up with a genuine smile, and my daughter looked relieved. “Thank you, Mom,” she said softly. “I think this is a step in the right direction.”

As the weeks turned into months, my dad continued to be a presence in our lives. We had our moments of tension and disagreements, but we were also making new memories together. My daughter’s persistence and my own willingness to let go of some of my resentment allowed us to come to terms with our past and move forward.

Looking back, I realized that holding onto anger and grudges was only hurting myself and those around me. Opening up to forgiveness and understanding had brought a sense of peace and healing that I hadn’t expected. My dad’s presence was a reminder that people could change, and that sometimes, it was worth giving second chances.