I fought the urge to throw them out right then and there. Instead, I told them I’d think about it just to end the conversation. Once they left, I blocked their numbers. I was convinced they were only seeing me as a walking ATM. Gavin has two children, aged five and one. Hannah has a six-month-old baby. It has been five years since I became a grandfather, and I haven’t met a single one of them.
The pain of that rejection is hard to describe. Over the years, I had asked Gavin to bring the kids by, and I tried to visit when Hannah’s daughter was born. The answer was always a firm “no.” It was always about protecting the peace with Marie and her husband. I was always the one expected to understand and step aside. Now that they need money, suddenly the door is open for me to play the role of “Grandpa.”
I wasn’t fully aware of their struggles before this because I stay away from family gossip. But after that visit, my gut told me something was wrong, so I asked around. I learned that my children have been struggling financially for a couple of years. More interestingly, the picture-perfect life with their stepdad isn’t so perfect anymore.
I was surprised because their social media always showed a happy, blended family. But it turns out the stepdad is selling his furniture company. Both Gavin and Hannah were given jobs there after the marriage. I strongly suspect that this job security was the main reason they took their mother’s side during the divorce. They likely calculated that keeping the peace with the new stepfather would guarantee their careers.
It feels like their loyalty was transactional. I never suspected it at the time, but it makes sense now. The furniture business is failing, and the stepdad is selling it to salvage what he can. As the owner, he’ll walk away with money, but my kids are facing unemployment. They are losing their steady paychecks and their long-term security.
Marie, who has never been able to keep a secret, has been venting to everyone, so the whole family knows they are fighting over this sale. I’m guessing that’s why Gavin and Hannah came to me. They know I’m doing well. After putting all this together, I decided to keep them blocked. It felt insulting that they only remembered I existed when their safety net collapsed.
For eight years, they didn’t care if I was dead or alive. Now, they need a bailout. I felt foolish for hoping for a genuine apology. A few days after I blocked them, they showed up at my doorstep, demanding to be let in. I spoke to them through the closed door, telling them I knew about the situation with their stepdad and that I wasn’t interested in being their backup plan.
I told them candidly that it felt like they had traded our relationship for financial security years ago, and now that the money was gone, they were back. I expressed how deeply that hurt. They got defensive, claiming I was being insensitive and holding a grudge. They insisted they just wanted to fix things because I was their dad, and that the money request was solely for the benefit of my grandchildren, not them. They even called it disgusting that I would listen to family gossip.
This confrontation happened two days ago, and I’ve been a wreck since. I had to take time off work to process it. Logically, I know my relatives have no reason to lie to me; they’ve been my support system for years. I don’t think they are spreading rumors; they were just answering my questions. Still, I’m torn. Part of me wants to help just to be in my grandkids’ lives. They probably just need a bridge until they find new jobs.
I haven’t discussed the terms—loan, gift, investment—but I know money is the key to this door. I’m terrified that my pride is going to cost me a relationship with the next generation. But I’m equally terrified of being used again. I feel lost, just an aging man trying to figure out where he fits in. Am I in the wrong for not wanting to open my wallet?
Thank you all for the comments; I really needed that perspective. I was actually close to caving in out of desperation to be a father again. But reading your thoughts made me realize that I need to respect myself. I’ve been treated like an option for years, snubbed in favor of Marie and her husband. Now that I understand the financial motivation behind their loyalty to him, I can’t unsee it.
I discussed this with my business partners today. They were horrified. They had always held out hope for a reconciliation, thinking the kids were just manipulated by their mother. But hearing that their loyalty was likely tied to their employment changed their opinion entirely. They advised me to keep the block in place for my own sanity.
Even if they are telling the truth about needing money for the children, I don’t owe them my savings. They never allowed me to be a grandfather when things were good, so why is it my responsibility now that things are bad? It sounds harsh, but I can’t pour my resources into a relationship that has been one-sided for nearly a decade. I’m going to choose my own peace this time. It hurts, but less than being used would.
It has been two weeks since I last wrote. Yesterday, things escalated. Gavin and Hannah showed up at my gym while I was in the middle of a training session. I have a strict policy: I don’t take meetings while I’m coaching. They refused to wait and caused a stir with the receptionist. They seemed to think that being my children gave them a VIP pass, despite years of silence.
I asked security to have them wait in my office to avoid a scene in the lobby. I’ll admit, I took my time finishing the session. I wanted them to understand that they couldn’t just barge into my professional life. When I finally went to the office, they were fuming, and my grandchildren were there, looking tired and fussy.
They immediately launched into a lecture about how rude I was for making them wait “out of spite” when the kids were present. The entitlement was staggering. I told them calmly that I treated them exactly as I would treat anyone else who interrupted my work. I reminded them that bringing the children was their decision, not mine.
They quickly shifted gears, saying they brought the kids so I could finally meet them. It was emotional blackmail, plain and simple. I looked at those beautiful children and my heart broke, but I knew I was being manipulated. I told them I was done for the day and going home. I called them out for using their own children as pawns to soften me up.
They argued that it was a genuine gesture, but the conversation quickly turned into a shouting match. Gavin lost his temper and started yelling, which scared the youngest child. I tried to comfort the little one while arguing with his father—a surreal and painful moment. Eventually, I told them to leave before I had security escort them out. They left, calling me heartless. I haven’t unblocked them. I think I’m truly done.
Three days have passed since the incident at my office. I haven’t unblocked their numbers, but they managed to email me from a new address. The tone was completely different this time. It was an apology. They admitted that the situation had spiraled and acknowledged that I had every right to be angry.
