dad left at 19

Story 3

My mother walked out on us when I was 12. Twenty-five years later, she suddenly resurfaced, pleading to meet my 16-year-old daughter. I warned my daughter, “Don’t do it—she’ll use you.”

Two years later, my mother pa:ss:ed away. Shortly after, my daughter received a call from an unknown number. Her face turned pale—it was my mother’s lawyer. He asked her to come urgently to sign some papers and collect belongings.

When I saw what she had left behind, my heart sank. An old suitcase filled with childhood drawings—my drawings. Neatly stored, along with school art projects I had assumed she’d never cared about. For years, I believed she had forgotten me. I was wrong. She had wanted to reconcile, and I never gave her the chance. But at least my daughter did—she grew close to her in her final years.

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