Lost in Lies: A Daughter’s Journey from Grief to Uncovering the Painful Reality

Woman Told Her Daughter Her Father Had Died – Years Later, the Girl Discovered a Heartbreaking Truth

Upon arriving home after a vacation with her spouse and son, Cassie finds a mysterious note from her mother instructing her to view a movie. Cassie’s whole existence transforms when she hits the play button. She’s left wondering in the end who of her parents she can forgive.

My father could do no wrong in my opinion. He fulfilled all of my expectations and then some. Despite his many travels as a businessman, he made sure to set aside adequate time for me.

“You’re my little girl, Cassie,” dad would say, putting his index finger to my nostrils. “You’re the most special.”

My parents always made an extra effort for me, making sure that we had family supper practically every night despite their hectic schedules.

When two of my school friends were going through a tumultuous divorce, it was the one thing keeping me centred.

One day after school, I told my mother, “I think it’s trendy now,” as she sliced slices of banana bread for me.

She laughed and said, “Cas, you cannot think that divorce is trendy.” “It’s devastating and traumatic, and very few families actually keep things civil.”

“I’m just saying that it’s trendy because a lot of kids live between two homes,” I said. “It’s one of those things we were talking about in class today.”

The world looked more dramatic than it should have at fourteen years old.

However, I was unaware that my remarks appeared to be a spell that hovered above our house.

My father left on a business trip a few weeks after that chat. News of his demise surfaced a few hours after he had left.

“How?” I enquired. “How did he die?”

“Cassie, I’m not sure what to tell you,” she answered. “I’m just saying what the paramedics told me.”

I said, “So what will we do next?”

Perplexed by the question, she asked, “What do you mean?”

“For the funeral?” I enquired. “Aren’t we going to have one?”

“I don’t think so,” my mom said in response. “My father desired cremation and a beachside scattering of his ashes. Instead, let’s do it.”

Though, in the end, my mother was the one who knew my father the best, I couldn’t understand why she would want to do that. And the more I considered it, the more lovely and nostalgic a private beach ceremony seemed.

My mother replied, “Don’t be difficult, Cassie,” as she noticed me considering my next course of action.

“I’m not,” I answered. “Actually. I was simply considering it. Mom, that’s a really good concept.”

I could have stood up to her for what I felt was a more fitting farewell. What good would it have done, though? Ultimately, he was lost on both of us.

My father had been our entire universe, so the months after the beach ceremony seemed heavy, and I knew I was going into serious depression. And most all, his absence was felt.

I did, however, eventually come to accept it.

I made the decision to reserve a cabin in the woods for a little family getaway last week. Despite the glories of nature, I knew that I wasn’t going to camp in a tent without a bathroom nearby, even though my son was certain that camping was the new best thing.

Alternatively, I believed that a cabin would be the ideal choice; my spouse, Derek, could camp outdoors with our son, Drew, should he insist on doing so.

Since we had a dog, I requested my mother to look after Romeo for the week so that we could relax and feel secure.

My mind was more than restored by a week away, and when we eventually returned home, I was shocked to discover that my mother had vanished. It appeared as though she had never been there.

However, there was a letter under the TV remote control on the coffee table.

Cassie, pay attention to this. I apologise. — Mother

I had no idea what lay ahead for me, but I turned on the TV and started watching whatever my mother had prepared while Derek helped Drew get in the bath.

My father was there, his voice a long-lost song, his image aged but still very much him, as the TV flickered to life.

I was overcome with a mixture of happiness and disbelief when I realised he was still alive, and tears flowed down my face.

The video’s message was incredibly erratic.

Greetings, Cassie. I remain here, living. I sincerely apologise for the suffering my loss must have caused you. However, it was required. The filthy reality of my past required me to be cut out of your existence. Ask your mother for the truth; she is the one who knows everything.

My health is steadily getting worse, and I would really like to see you so we can talk about it.

Dad, I love you.

I took the car keys and ran out, not telling Derek or Drew anything. My mum had to explain things to me.

“I assume you have some inquiries for me,” she remarked as she opened the door.

“Tell me everything,” I said.

Cassie, that weighs a lot. “Are you sure you want to do this now? You look tired from your trip,” she said.

I gave a nod. It was either now or never. I had to discover why my father had staged his own death in order to leave our family.

My mother brought out some shortbread and made us some tea.

“Darling,” she said. “I’ll understand if you don’t forgive me, but there’s so much about that time that I need to tell you.”

As I sipped my tea, I tried to process the information my mother was going to give me.

“I recall you telling me about the divorce of your friend’s parents. “Remember that?” inquired the woman.

I gave a nod. Naturally, I did. It was the oddest thing, but in school, I saw it all the time.

That being said, your father and I were not lawfully wed. He was thus relieved when I told him about our divorce-related talk. Divorce would not exist if people were not married.”

“What’s the big deal?” I enquired.

“Then I found out that the real reason that we didn’t get married was because your father was already married to another woman.”

“What?” I cried out, nearly knocking my cup over. “To who?”

“To a woman in the town where he always had his business trips.”

“You didn’t know?” Unable to believe what she had said, I inquired.

She yelled, “Of course not!” “However, he chose that family over us when I asked him about it. I thus informed him that his demise would be the subject of the tale.”

For a few while, neither of us spoke.

It transpires that my mother informed him that she would never be honest with me, especially while he was my favourite. My bubble couldn’t be burst that way by her. And she wouldn’t allow him to see me again.

My mother remarked, “It was better for you to think that it was an accident.” “It just made more sense.”

I now knew why there had been no funeral for him.

“What did we throw into the sea, then?” I enquired.

“Dust,” she said with a serious expression.

Over the years, my mother had spoken to him twice. The second instance occurred a day ago.

My father told her that he was sick and that he would die soon. He also asked her to give me the tape. Torn between love and remorse, my mother decided to write me the note and set up the recorder so I could view it.

“I would have taken the secret to my grave,” she replied. “But knowing that he was ill and wanted to see you just struck something in me.”

I went to the state where my father and his other family resided because I felt compelled to face the truth of his existence.

I spent several weeks with my father, seeing him in and out of hospitals, observing him take a variety of medications, and observing his daily decline in strength.

I sat by his bedside and heard about his experiences, his regrets, his happy moments, and his love for all of his children, including me.

I asked Derek to travel over with Drew as things started to go south. Even if it would only last a moment, I would know that my son had had a chance to meet my father.

My father passed away a few days later.

I’m not sure if I’ve forgiven him for leading a double life even today. All I know is that I wanted to be with him when it all came down to it. I had pushed my emotions aside in the hopes of finding recollections I could make sense of later.

But now that everything has calmed down, I’m attempting to decide whether or not to forgive my mother for lying.

How would you respond?