Man Who Put Work First His Whole Life Could Never Get His Daughter to Talk to Him Until a Christmas Call Changed Everything — Story of the Day

A lifetime of putting work first left Tom estranged from his family. Now, nearing 70, he faces worsening health and a daughter who won’t take his calls after years of neglect. But an unexpected Christmas scare forces him to confront his choices, leading to a moment that could change everything.

Tom sat in his quiet, empty office, the only sound the faint hum of the heater. Papers were neatly stacked on his desk, but his tired eyes wandered to the decorated Christmas tree glowing softly in the corner.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

It was festive but felt out of place in the lonely space. He always stayed late, long after others had gone home.

His friends had retired, but work was his anchor. With a sigh, he picked up his phone and dialed his daughter, Daisy.

“Hello,” Tom said, his voice steady but hesitant.

“Hi, Dad,” Daisy replied, sounding distracted.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

“What does Theo want for Christmas this year?” Tom asked, trying to keep the conversation light.

“He wants a Furby,” Daisy said.

“A Furby? What’s that?” Tom asked, frowning.

“It’s a toy. It talks and moves. All the kids at school have one,” Daisy explained.

“Would it be okay if I just gave him money instead?” Tom asked carefully.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

“Uh… yeah, I guess,” Daisy replied in a disappointed tone, then hung up quickly.

After working a little longer, Tom gathered his belongings. His desk, once bustling with life and cluttered with files, now looked too clean, almost sterile.

Locking the office door behind him, he stepped into the chilly evening air and drove home, the radio playing softly but failing to distract his thoughts.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

When he entered his empty house, the silence greeted him like an old, unwelcome friend. He hung his coat on the hook near the door and stared at the dimly lit living room.

The same sofa, the same TV, the same memories. For years, he’d lived alone, ever since his wife packed up and left, taking Daisy with her.

Tom changed into his worn-out sweatpants and sank into the couch, remote in hand.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

As the TV flickered on, his eyes wandered to the shelf. There sat a photo of Theo, grinning widely.

It was one of the few connections he had left. He sighed deeply, the weight of missed moments pressing on his chest.

The next morning, he drove to the clinic. Sitting in the doctor’s office, he felt trapped, knowing exactly what he’d hear: to slow down and work less.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

Dr. Harris walked into the room with a clipboard in hand, his expression calm but focused. “Well, Tom, how are you feeling today?” he asked, sitting down across from him.

“I’m fine,” Tom muttered, avoiding eye contact.

Dr. Harris flipped through Tom’s file. “Your test results are mostly okay, but your cholesterol is still too high. We’ve talked about improving your diet. Are you eating better?”

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

“No. I ignore it,” Tom said, crossing his arms.

“Tom, this isn’t something you can ignore. You know your heart’s condition. You need to make changes,” Dr. Harris said firmly.

“I drink water,” Tom replied, holding up a bottle. “My daughter sent it. Says it’s fancy.”

“That’s good, but it’s not enough. Have you told your family about your condition yet?” Dr. Harris asked, leaning forward.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

“No,” Tom said, his tone cold.

“Tom, we’ve talked about this before. Your family should know,” Dr. Harris said, clearly frustrated.

“I wasn’t a good father. My daughter and I don’t have the best relationship. I don’t want to drag her into this mess,” Tom said, shaking his head.

“Are you worried she won’t want to help?” Dr. Harris asked gently.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

“No. I’m worried she’ll help too much,” Tom admitted.

“Tom, you have to tell her, or I will,” Dr. Harris said firmly, standing up.

“You’re supposed to make my life easier, Doc,” Tom said with a weak smile.

“I’m just trying to keep you alive,” Dr. Harris replied, patting Tom’s shoulder before walking out.

Back home, Tom sat in his favorite armchair, the phone resting heavily in his hand.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

The screen lit up with Daisy’s contact, but his thumb hovered over the call button. He stared at it, debating.

What if she got upset? What if she brushed him off? Shaking his head, Tom forced himself to press the button.

“Dad?” Daisy’s voice came through, a mix of curiosity and concern.

“We need to talk,” Tom said, his voice quieter than he intended.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

“What’s going on?” Daisy asked.

Tom took a deep breath and told her about his heart condition. There was a long pause on the line before Daisy finally said, “I’m coming tomorrow. I’ll take care of it.”

“Daisy, you don’t have to—” Tom began, but she cut him off.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, Dad,” she said firmly, ending the call.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

The next day, Daisy arrived with a determined look. She immediately called his doctor, grilling him about the details of Tom’s health.

Afterward, she attacked the fridge, tossing out every unhealthy item. Sitting Tom down at the table, she crossed her arms.

“Andrew and I talked, Dad,” Daisy began, her voice calm but firm. “We want you to come live with us. We have a guest house. You’d have your own space, and we’d be close by. I’ve already looked into a great doctor in our area who can help manage your condition. It’s all set up. You wouldn’t have to—”

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

“Thank you, Daisy, really,” Tom interrupted, holding up his hand. “But I can’t do that.”

“Why not?” Daisy asked, her tone sharper now.

“Because I need to work,” Tom said simply.

“Work? Are you serious?” Daisy asked, raising her voice. “Dad, you’re almost 70! How much longer do you think you can keep this up?”

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

“Sweetheart,” Tom said softly, “work is all I have. I’ve built my life around it. I don’t know who I am without it.”

“And what about me? What about Theo?” Daisy shot back, her voice trembling. “When are you going to care about us? You’ve missed so much! My whole life, I heard people say how great you were. But I didn’t know that man. My dad was never around. And Theo? He doesn’t even remember you!”

“Daisy, I…” Tom began, his voice breaking.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

“I’m done, Dad,” Daisy said, tears in her eyes. She grabbed her bag and slammed the door behind her.

Over the next two weeks, Tom called Daisy every day, but each time, her voicemail picked up. He left messages, his words stumbling as he tried to explain himself.

“Daisy, it’s Dad. Please call me back. I’m sorry for everything.” The silence that followed weighed heavily on him.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

He replayed their last argument in his mind, each word cutting deeper. When Dr. Harris told him his condition had worsened, Tom knew he couldn’t wait forever. He had to make amends.

The day before Christmas, Tom sat at his desk, focusing on the work that usually kept his mind busy. His phone rang, displaying an unknown number.

“Hello?” he answered, his voice cautious.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

“This is Riverside Health Clinic,” a calm voice said. “We’ve received Mrs. Brown’s body following an accident. Your number is listed as the emergency contact.”

Tom froze, his heart pounding. “Mrs. Brown?” he repeated.

“Yes, sir,” they replied.

“I can’t get there for at least six hours,” Tom said, his voice shaking. Panic gripped him. His daughter. Daisy.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

“Understood. We’ll wait,” the voice responded before the line went dead. Tom sat there, stunned, the phone still in his hand.

Tom grabbed his coat and rushed out the door, his mind racing. At the airport, he fumbled with his phone, dialing Andrew again and again, but there was no answer.

Frustrated and panicked, he bought a ticket for the next flight, not caring about the cost. Sitting in the crowded plane, his chest felt tight, and his hands wouldn’t stop shaking.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

He reached into his pocket, pulling out the small bottle of calming pills Dr. Harris had given him, swallowing one with a shaky gulp of water.

After landing, Tom flagged down a taxi and rushed to the hospital, his heart pounding. At the reception desk, he leaned forward, his voice trembling. “I was told my daughter, Daisy Brown, was in an accident.”

The receptionist frowned and tapped on her keyboard. “Daisy Brown?” she asked.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

“Yes,” Tom said, his hands gripping the counter tightly.

“I think there’s been a mix-up,” she replied. “It was Sarah Brown who was in the accident, not Daisy.”

Tom’s knees felt weak. “Are you sure? I got a call saying it was Daisy.”

The receptionist stepped away, returning after a few minutes. “I’m very sorry. A new nurse confused the files of Sarah Brown and Daisy Brown. She called you by mistake.”

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

Tom’s face flushed with frustration. “How could something like that happen? Do you have any idea how terrified I’ve been?”

“Brown is a common last name,” she said, her tone matter-of-fact. “Again, I’m sorry.” She returned to her screen, acting as if the incident was resolved. Tom stood there, his body shaking, disbelief and relief flooding him at the same time.

Tom sank into a chair, his head in his hands, his heart still racing from the scare.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

Around him, doctors and nurses moved quickly, their faces focused and calm, handling lives that hung by a thread.

The thought hit him hard—this time it wasn’t Daisy, but what about next time? He couldn’t ignore the reality that life was fragile, and time wasn’t endless.

Taking a deep breath, Tom stood up with a new resolve and walked out of the hospital. Two hours later, Tom stood at Daisy’s doorstep, shifting awkwardly in the too-tight Santa costume.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

The fake beard itched, and the toy Furby felt ridiculous in his hand, but he had come this far. He rang the doorbell, his heart pounding.

The door opened, and Daisy stood there, her eyes widening. “Dad?” she said, her voice filled with surprise.

“Merry Christmas,” Tom said, forcing a small smile. “I know I’ve been a terrible father and grandfather. I’ve missed so much. But I want to change that. I want to do better, starting today.”

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

Daisy’s eyes glistened with tears, and her lips curved into a smile. She stepped aside and said, “Come in, Dad.”

She turned and called into the house, “Theo! Come here! Look who’s at the door!”

Little Theo came running, his eyes lighting up when he saw Tom. “Santa!” he shouted with pure joy, throwing himself into Tom’s arms.

Tom knelt, hugging Theo tightly, the toy dropping to the floor as his emotions spilled over. Tears streamed down his face, and when he glanced up, he saw Daisy watching, her smile full of warmth.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

Tell us what you think about this story and share it with your friends. It might inspire them and brighten their day.

If you enjoyed this story, read this one: Walking into the office that morning, I expected another ordinary day of burying myself in work. But then I saw him—the man who had destroyed my life. My chest tightened, and the memories came flooding back. I had no idea how to handle it. All I knew was that I couldn’t stay in the same room as him.

This piece is inspired by stories from the everyday lives of our readers and written by a professional writer. Any resemblance to actual names or locations is purely coincidental. All images are for illustration purposes only. Share your story with us; maybe it will change someone’s life.

Am I Wrong for Teaching My Daughter-in-Law a Lesson after She Made My Wife Pay for a Cleaning Service?

Am I Wrong for Teaching My Daughter-in-Law a Lesson after She Made My Wife Pay for a Cleaning Service?

After my daughter-in-law humiliated my wife by making her pay for a cleaning service after a week of babysitting, I knew I had to teach her a lesson about gratitude. When the opportunity arose, I devised a plan to show her exactly what my wife had endured, turning the tables in an unforgettable way.

Hi, I’m Jacob, and I have a story to share about my daughter-in-law (DIL). My wife and I have always been close to our son and his family. We love spending time with our grandkids and often help out when needed.

Elderly couple and their grandkids | Source: Pexels

Elderly couple and their grandkids | Source: Pexels

Our relationship with our son and his family has always been strong. We see them often, share meals, and celebrate holidays together. We feel lucky to be involved in our grandkids’ lives, watching them grow and supporting them whenever we can.

As grandparents, we take pride in being there for our family. Whether it’s picking up the kids from school, babysitting on short notice, or just offering advice, we’re always ready to help. We know how hard it can be to juggle work and family, so we do what we can to lighten the load.

Happy grandparents | Source: Pexels

Happy grandparents | Source: Pexels

A few weeks ago, our son and DIL had to go on a business trip. They asked my wife to babysit for a week. She loves spending time with the grandkids, so she agreed without hesitation. She packed her bags and moved into their house for the week.

While she was there, she took care of everything. She cooked meals, helped with homework, and made sure the house was tidy. The kids had a great time with their grandma, and she even did extra chores to help out. When she returned home, I was eager to hear all about their week together.

Sad elderly woman | Source: Pexels

Sad elderly woman | Source: Pexels

But something was clearly wrong. Her eyes were red and puffy, and she looked like she had been crying. I asked her what happened, but at first, she didn’t want to tell me.

“Honey, what’s wrong?” I asked gently. She shook her head, avoiding my eyes.

“It’s nothing,” she said, her voice trembling.

I wasn’t convinced. “Please, tell me. What happened?”

Concerned elderly man | Source: Pexels

Concerned elderly man | Source: Pexels

After some coaxing, she finally opened up. “Right before our son and DIL returned, she called me. She said I had to pay for a professional cleaning service.”

I was stunned. “What? Why?”

“She claimed the house was a mess and it was unacceptable,” she said, her voice breaking. “But I took care of the kids, cleaned up after them, and even did some extra chores.”

“And that wasn’t enough for her?” I asked, feeling my anger rising.

Upset woman | Source: Pexels

Upset woman | Source: Pexels

“She said it wasn’t,” my wife replied, tears streaming down her face. “I felt humiliated, Jacob. I didn’t want to argue and risk damaging our relationship with them, so I paid the cleaning bill. I thought I was helping, but she made me feel like I failed.”

Hearing this made me furious. “You did them a huge favor, and this is how they repay you?” I said, my voice shaking with anger. “This is unacceptable. You shouldn’t have had to go through that.”

Elderly man in a sweater | Source: Pexels

Elderly man in a sweater | Source: Pexels

She nodded, looking defeated. “I just didn’t want to cause any trouble.”

“I understand,” I said, trying to stay calm. “But this disrespect needs to be addressed. I need to teach our DIL a lesson about gratitude and respect.”

And so, I started planning how to make sure this would never happen again.

Elderly man with a tablet | Source: Pexels

Elderly man with a tablet | Source: Pexels

I spent a few days thinking about it and came up with a plan. I decided to give my DIL a taste of her own medicine. I called my son and DIL and offered to babysit the kids for a weekend. They were thrilled and quickly accepted my offer. They needed the break and trusted me completely.

The plan was simple. I would document the state of the house when I arrived, take care of the kids for the weekend, clean the house thoroughly, and then present them with a bill for a professional cleaning service. This way, they would understand what my wife went through.

Messy bedroom | Source: Pexels

Messy bedroom | Source: Pexels

I arrived at my son and DIL’s house on Friday evening. As soon as I walked in, I took pictures of every room, documenting the cleanliness and order. The house was already in good shape, but I wanted to make sure I had proof of how it looked when I arrived.

I spent the weekend with my grandkids, having a wonderful time. We played games, read stories, and enjoyed each other’s company. I made sure to clean up after ourselves, keeping the house tidy throughout our time together.

Grandfather and his granddaughter | Source: Pexels

Grandfather and his granddaughter | Source: Pexels

Before my son and DIL returned on Sunday evening, I went into action. I cleaned the house from top to bottom, making it look spotless. I vacuumed, dusted, scrubbed, and polished every surface. By the time I was done, the house was immaculate.

When my son and DIL walked in, they were pleased to see how clean and organized everything was. I took a deep breath and decided it was time.

Neat room | Source: Pexels

Neat room | Source: Pexels

“Hey, can we talk for a minute?” I asked. My son and DIL exchanged curious looks but nodded. I showed them the pictures I had taken when I arrived.

“This is how the house looked when I got here on Friday,” I said, scrolling through the images on my phone. “And this is how it looks now.”

They both looked puzzled.

“Dad, what’s going on?” my son asked.

Couple arguing | Source: Pexels

Couple arguing | Source: Pexels

I took out the bill I had prepared. “I’m handing you a bill for a professional cleaning service,” I said, handing it to my DIL. Her face turned red with confusion and anger.

“Why would we need to pay this?” she snapped.

I stayed calm. “This is what your mother had to go through after she babysat for you. She did you a favor, took care of your kids, and you humiliated her by making her pay for a cleaning service. I thought it was only fair that you experience the same thing.”

Couple argues | Source: Pexels

Couple argues | Source: Pexels

My son’s eyes widened, and he turned to his wife. “Is this true?” he asked her.

She stammered, “I… I thought the house wasn’t clean enough. I didn’t mean to upset her.”

My son sighed, clearly disappointed. “You should have appreciated what Mom did for us. She didn’t deserve that.”

Upset concerned old man | Source: Pexels

Upset concerned old man | Source: Pexels

Turning back to me, he said, “Dad, I’m so sorry. We’ll reimburse Mom immediately. This will never happen again.”

My DIL looked down, embarrassed. “I’m sorry, too. I didn’t realize how much I hurt her.”

I nodded, feeling some of the tension ease. “I hope this experience helps you understand the importance of gratitude and respect.”

Happy elderly couple | Source: Pexels

Happy elderly couple | Source: Pexels

Since then, things have been a bit tense, but I think my DIL got the message. My wife and I continue to help out with the grandkids, but now there’s a newfound respect for the efforts we put in.

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