Basia was only ten years older than me.
My father, Zbigniew, was always an authority figure for me. He was a firm but fair man who always told me that family was the most important thing. After my mother died, when I was only fifteen, he promised that he would always support me. And so it was – For many years we were very close, although his life began to change when Basia, his second wife, appeared.
Basia was only ten years older than me. I remember how he introduced her during a family dinner. She was young, elegant and very self-confident. “This is Basia, my partner” he said with a smile I hadn't seen on him for a long time. I wanted to be happy for him, but something in her gaze made me feel uneasy.
At first, everything seemed fine. Basia was nice, but distant. She didn't try to get close to me, but she didn't cause any conflict either. My father seemed happy, and I didn't want to ruin his happiness. However, over time, I began to notice that our relationship with my father was changing.
When I visited him at home, Basia was always the center of attention. My father listened to her with adoration, and agreed to everything she suggested. Our conversations, once full of closeness, became superficial. I felt as if a wall was growing between us that I couldn't break through.
The real blow came a few months ago when I found out that my father had transferred all of his assets to his wife. The house that had been our family nest, the plot of land where I spent my holidays as a child, my savings – all went to Basia. I found out about it by accident when I visited a notary about my own documents.
Shocked, I immediately called my father. „Dad, what does all this mean?? Why did you transfer everything to Basia??”
His response was cold and distant. „Basia deserves it because she is my wife. Besides, you're doing fine, and she needs to have a safety net when I'm gone.”
„And me? Am I not your daughter? Do my feelings even matter to you?– I asked, feeling tears welling up in my eyes.
„Kasia, you have your own life. You can't expect me to support you– he replied dryly.
It wasn't about money or property. It was about feeling pushed away, like I was no longer a part of his life. Like Basia had taken my place not only in his heart, but in our family.
After that conversation, our contacts became sporadic. My father rarely called, and when I tried to contact him, he was often busy or avoided the conversation. I felt like I was losing not only my father, but also a part of myself.
The worst moment came when Basia told me directly: “Zbyszek wants to have peace in his old age. You should respect that.” Her words were like a slap in the face. I was the one who supported my father my whole life, and now she's telling me what I should respect?
Today I feel like a stranger in my father's life. The home that was once full of memories and warmth has become a place where I don't feel welcome. Every thought of the past reminds me of how close we were, and how far apart we are now.
Sometimes I wonder if I could have done something differently. If I should have fought for our relationship more? Or maybe Basia was planning to push me aside from the beginning?
One thing I know for sure – nothing hurts as much as knowing that the person you loved most in the world has decided to leave you in the shadow. Because even though I will always be his daughter, now I feel like we are just two strangers.
See what else we have written about in recent days: From life. “My son moved out of home, but he still expects me to pay for him”: Is it my fault