Woman Told Her Daughter Her Father Had Died – Years Later, the Girl Discovered a Heartbreaking Truth
When Cassie returns from a retreat with her spouse and child, she enters her house to find a mysterious note from her mother, urging her to watch a video. As Cassie hits play, her entire world shifts. Ultimately, she’s left pondering which of her parents deserves forgiveness.
To me, my father was faultless. He fulfilled every role I needed him to, and then some. A frequent traveler for business, he always made time for me.
“You’re my little princess, Cassie,” he’d say, gently tapping my nose. “You’re the most special.”
Despite their busy schedules, my parents made it a point to have family dinners.
It kept me grounded, especially as my friends’ parents went through messy divorces.
“I think it’s a new trend,” I quipped to my mother over some homemade banana bread.
“Cassie, divorce isn’t something to joke about,” she chuckled. “It’s painful, traumatic, and rarely easy.”
“I just meant it’s becoming more common,” I clarified. “Kids living between two homes, you know?”
Little did I know, my words seemed to cast a strange shadow over our home.
Shortly after, my father went on a business trip. Hours later, we received news of his passing.
“How?” I demanded. “What happened?”
“I’m not sure what to say, Cassie,” my mother replied, visibly shaken.
“And now?” I asked. “What about the funeral?”
“I think we’ll skip it,” she said. “Your dad wanted a simple ceremony by the beach. Let’s honor his wishes.”
Initially, I didn’t understand her decision. But as time passed, the idea grew on me.
“You’re being difficult,” my mother chided, noticing my pensive expression.
“I’m not,” I insisted. “I think it’s a good idea.”
I could’ve argued for something more elaborate, but what would be the point? We were both grieving.
Months later, I booked a cabin for a family getaway. My husband and son were thrilled about camping, but I preferred the comfort of a cabin.
We left Romeo, our dog, with my mother for the week.
The break rejuvenated me. But upon returning home, my mother was nowhere to be found. Instead, a note awaited me.
“Watch this, Cassie. I’m sorry. — Mom”
Intrigued, I watched the video alone.
There, on the screen, was my father, alive and aged.
Tears welled up as I grappled with the revelation.
In the recording, my father confessed his hidden life and his failing health.
Shocked and confused, I confronted my mother.
“Explain,” I demanded.
She hesitated, then confessed the truth about my father’s secret life and her decision to keep it hidden.
I was left reeling, questioning everything.
In search of closure, I visited my father.
At his bedside, I listened to his stories, his regrets, his love.
When he passed, I was uncertain if forgiveness was possible.
Now, as the dust settles, I contemplate forgiving my mother.
What would you do?
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