I Last Saw My Daughter 13 Years Ago, Yesterday I Got a Letter from My Grandson I Never Knew About

I lost my daughter 13 years ago when my wife left me for another man. Yesterday, I got a letter addressed to ‘Grandpa Steve,’ and my heart nearly stopped when I read what had happened.

Thirteen years. That’s how long it had been since I last saw my daughter, Alexandra. She was only 13 when Carol, my ex-wife, packed up and left. I was 37.

Young teen girl with blue eyes smiling | Source: Midjourney

Young teen girl with blue eyes smiling | Source: Midjourney

I still remember the day like it was yesterday. It was a warm, sticky summer evening, and I came home from work to find Carol sitting at the kitchen table, perfectly calm, waiting for me.

Back then, I was just a construction foreman in Chicago. Our company wasn’t huge, but we built all kinds of stuff: roads, office buildings, you name it. I worked my tail off with long days, scorching summers, and freezing winters.

Man working in construction | Source: Midjourney

Man working in construction | Source: Midjourney

It wasn’t exactly a glamorous job, but it paid the bills and then some. My boss, Richard, owned the company. He was older than me, always wore fancy suits, and had this fake smile that bugged me.

The guy loved to show off his money. He drove expensive cars and threw parties at his huge mansion outside of town. Carol, my wife, ate that stuff up. She loved getting dressed up and pretending she was part of that crowd. Meanwhile, I always felt like a fish out of water at those things.

Woman laughing at a party | Source: Midjourney

Woman laughing at a party | Source: Midjourney

But perhaps, if I’d paid more attention, I would’ve seen my wife’s next move.

“Steve, this just isn’t working anymore,” she said in a clipped voice, like she was reading from a script.

I blinked at her, confused. “What are you talking about?”

She let out a small sigh. “I’m leaving. Richard and I are in love. I’m taking Alexandra. She needs a better life than this.”

The phrase “better life” still makes me angry. I worked hard, harder than most to provide Carol and Alexandra with everything they needed. We had a decent house in the Chicago suburbs, food on the table, and clothes to wear. Sure, it wasn’t fancy.

A house in the suburbs | Source: Midjourney

A house in the suburbs | Source: Midjourney

We didn’t go on vacations or have designer anything, but it was more than many people had. I didn’t understand what was so wrong with it. Carol, however, always wanted more: more money, more luxury, more of everything.

Therefore, she left to shack up with my boss, and my life was shattered. I still tried to be a good father to my daughter. But Carol poisoned her against me. I believe she told her I didn’t care about her and that I had been unfaithful.

Mother gossiping to her daughter | Source: Midjourney

Mother gossiping to her daughter | Source: Midjourney

I don’t know. What I do know is that eventually, my daughter stopped answering my calls and opening my letters. I no longer existed to her.

Unfortunately, that wasn’t the end of my misfortunes. I spiraled into a depression and ignored my health until I ended up in a hospital bed, facing surgery after surgery. The medical bills were so high that I had to sell my house.

Eventually, my job let me go for taking too many days off, although not working for Richard anymore was a blessing.

During this time, Carol moved out of state with my ex-boss, and my Alexandra was gone for good.

Man in construction clothes sadly sitting on a couch | Source: Midjourney

Man in construction clothes sadly sitting on a couch | Source: Midjourney

The years crept slowly by. I never remarried. I never wanted to. Instead, I worked hard to rebuild my health and focused on founding my own construction business. With that, I managed to claw my way back to a stable, if lonely, life.

At 50, I lived in a decent apartment, and I was financially independent. But there were many moments when I wanted my daughter back.

Wistful man in an apartment | Source: Midjourney

Wistful man in an apartment | Source: Midjourney

Then, yesterday, something happened that shook me to my core. I found a letter in my mailbox with a child’s handwriting, though they must have gotten help from an adult to address it.

The front said: “For Grandpa Steve.”

For a moment, I just stared at it. My hands started shaking. Grandpa? I wasn’t a grandpa. Or at least, I didn’t think I was. I tore the envelope open, and the first line nearly stopped my heart.

Man holding a letter saying "For Grandpa Steve" | Source: Midjourney

Man holding a letter saying “For Grandpa Steve” | Source: Midjourney

“Hi, Grandpa! My name is Adam. I’m 6! Unfortunately, you’re the only family I have left…”

I walked back to the house without thinking and sat on the couch to continue to read the letter. This Adam had help with some of the sentences, but he had written everything in these big, uneven letters.

It made me smile until Iread that he lived in a group home in St. Louis and that his mom, Alexandra, had mentioned me in passing.

He ended his message with: “Please come find me.”

Man holding a letter saying "Please come find me" | Source: Midjourney

Man holding a letter saying “Please come find me” | Source: Midjourney

Of course, I’d booked the earliest flight to St. Louis.

I didn’t sleep that night. How could I? Questions swirled in my mind. How did I have a grandson? Where was Alexandra? Why was he in a home?

Early the next morning, I was at the airport, and a few hours later, I was getting out of a taxi.

The shelter was a plain brick building with chipped paint and a sagging awning that read St. Anne’s Children’s Home. A woman named Mrs. Johnson met me in the lobby. She was around my age, with kind eyes and a soft voice.

Woman smiling at a children's center | Source: Midjourney

Woman smiling at a children’s center | Source: Midjourney

“You must be Steve,” she said, shaking my hand. “Adam’s been waiting for you.”

“Where is he? Is he really my grandson?” My voice cracked, but I didn’t care.

“I’ll let you meet him soon,” she said gently, guiding me into her office. “But there’s something you need to know first. Please, have a seat.”

It was in that tiny room, filled with folders and surrounded by pictures of kids, that my life changed.

Man smiling in an office at a children's center | Source: Midjourney

Man smiling in an office at a children’s center | Source: Midjourney

First, Mrs. Johnson confirmed that Adam was Alexandra’s son. She said she had greeted them herself the day my daughter surrendered custody of him, just a few months ago.

Mrs. Johnson told me the entire story in detail. Alexandra’s life had fallen apart after Carol kicked her out for getting pregnant at 20 without a husband. The father had left, of course.

Sad pregnant young woman at a bus stop | Source: Midjourney

Sad pregnant young woman at a bus stop | Source: Midjourney

Afterward, my daughter tried to make things work, juggling low-paying jobs while raising Adam in a tiny apartment. Then, a year ago, she met a rich man named David, who promised her a better life. But, he didn’t want someone else’s kid.

“That’s why she left him here,” Mrs. Johnson said. “She said she hoped he’d find a good home. I don’t think she knew how to love him even after all those years she raised him. It’s tragic, really.”

Woman at a desk in an office at a children's center | Source: Midjourney

Woman at a desk in an office at a children’s center | Source: Midjourney

My stomach turned. Alexandra had abandoned her own child. My Alexandra? How had it come to this? And then, I realized what had happened. She had spent six years living a harrowing life and traded it for a wealthy man. Just like her mother. It wasn’t a completely equal situation, but it was close.

It was what Carol had taught her.

“And Adam?” I asked hoarsely. “How does he know about me?”

Emotional man in an office at a children's center | Source: Midjourney

Emotional man in an office at a children’s center | Source: Midjourney

Mrs. Johnson smiled faintly. “He’s a smart boy. Apparently, he’d overheard your name during conversations Alexandra had with others. He even found an old diary that mentioned you. When she left him here, he told me he had a grandpa named Steve. I did some digging and found you. Then, we wrote the letter together.”

I nodded, still reeling, but Mrs. Johnson stood and walked to the door. “You know everything,” she smiled. “Adam’s outside in the playground. Are you ready to meet him?”

Woman smirking at the door of an office at a children's center | Source: Midjourney

Woman smirking at the door of an office at a children’s center | Source: Midjourney

I nodded and followed her with my heart pounding in my ears.

***

Adam was small for his age, with shaggy brown hair and big blue eyes that looked just like Alexandra’s. He clutched a toy truck in one hand and looked up at me with curiosity and just a tad of shyness.

“Hi,” he said quietly.

“Hi, Adam,” I said, keeping my voice steady. I knelt so we were at eye level. “I’m your grandpa.”

Man smiling at an outdoor playground at a children's center | Source: Midjourney

Man smiling at an outdoor playground at a children’s center | Source: Midjourney

His eyes widened immediately, and a huge smile broke out on his face. “You’re finally here!” He jumped up and hugged me. “I knew you’d come!”

While I embraced my grandson for the very first time, I thought back to my life. I could hate Carol all I wanted. What’s more, that anger would probably get even stronger, considering that my daughter had turned into a version of her mother somewhere along the way.

But it was time to focus on what mattered. My grandson was in my arms, and he had been abandoned, just like me. That cycle ended here. Adam wasn’t going to grow up feeling unloved or unwanted. I didn’t care what it took. I was going to give him a home.

A boy with blue eyes smiling | Source: Midjourney

A boy with blue eyes smiling | Source: Midjourney

Minutes later, I told Mrs. Johnson, I wanted Adam with me, and she smiled. I noticed a sheen of tears in her eyes, but I didn’t mention it.

It was going to take some paperwork and time before I could take Adam back to Chicago. But Mrs. Johnson was confident there would be no issues if I took a DNA test to prove I’m his grandfather.

I promised to do that soon enough.

Man shaking hands with a woman at a children's center | Source: Midjourney

Man shaking hands with a woman at a children’s center | Source: Midjourney

Honestly, it’s strange how life works. Thirteen years ago, I lost my daughter. I thought I’d lost everything. But now, I had a grandson, and my whole life made sense again.

This work is inspired by real events and people, but it has been fictionalized for creative purposes. Names, characters, and details have been changed to protect privacy and enhance the narrative. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.

The author and publisher make no claims to the accuracy of events or the portrayal of characters and are not liable for any misinterpretation. This story is provided “as is,” and any opinions expressed are those of the characters and do not reflect the views of the author or publisher.

At 74, Jay Leno Prepares for the Inevitable, Sets Aside Fortune for His Cars — ‘No One Lives Forever

After leaving behind his successful career as the host of late-night talk shows, Jay Leno launched a web series on nbc.com (2015 to 2022) about cars.

Jay Leno’s Garage, now appearing to more than 3.7 million subscribers on YouTube, allows the comedian to share his passion for cars and bikes with his audience.

In November 2022, the former Tonight Show host was badly burned when a fire broke out in his Burbank, California garage.

“I got some serious burns from a gasoline fire.” Leno told Variety at the time “I am OK. Just need a week or two to get back on my feet.”

According to reports, the now 74-year-old man was working under a car when the fire sparked. He suffered third degree burns on his face and got a new left ear after losing his first one to the fire.

Unfortunately, his luck didn’t get any better.

Only two months after the fire, he suffered a broken collarbone, two cracked ribs and two cracked kneecaps in a motorcycle accident.

‘Treats Mavis like gold’
Despite his body breaking down with aging, passion-related accidents and high cholesterol, the one thing that holds strong in his life is his love for Mavis, who he married in 1980.

“I always tell guys when they meet a woman, ‘Marry your conscience. Marry someone who’s the person you wish you could be and it works out okay.” Leno tells People of his enduring love with Mavis, now 77.

After 45 years together, the childless couple started facing some hardships.

Mavis was diagnosed with dementia and her condition is rapidly declining.

In April 2024, Leno was granted a conservatorship over his wife’s estate by a Los Angeles Superior Court judge who ruled the measure was “necessary and appropriate.”

According to court documents obtained by Entertainment Tonight, “Mavis has been progressively losing capacity and orientation to space and time for several years.”

The filing also says and “Jay is fully capable of continuing support for Mavis’ physical and financial needs, as he has throughout their marriage,” but her “current condition renders her incapable of executing the estate plan.”

Included in the documents is a statement from her neurologist Dr. Cohen: “Sometimes [Mavis] does not know her husband, Jay, nor her date of birth.”

Cohen, Mavis’ attending doctor at Cedars Sinai, adds that Leno “loves his wife very much” and “treats [Mavis] like gold.”

‘No one lives forever’
Only months later, In Touch reports that Leno is now preparing for his own death, making end-of-life arrangements so his fortunes are delivered to the rightful beneficiaries.

The filing reads: “No one lives forever, and the actions taken by Mr. Leno are reasonable and necessary for his and Mavis’ protection. Mavis does not object to the petition and in my opinion consents to it. Mr. Leno is her protector, and she trusts him. This estate planning is in her best interest and protects her interests.”

Leno’s latest filing details provisions for Mavis’ care and discloses that the couple intends to stay in their home “for as long as reasonably possible,” using their money for “assistance from household employees or caregivers as may be necessary.”

If Leno dies first, “the estate will divide into the Leno Marital Trust…it will have the Leno Collection and any real property housing Leno Collection. It will be irrevocable, and the survivor receives all income, plus principal for reasonable support. After the survivor’s death, after-tax balance will be distributed, along with the Leno Trust to JDM.”

The Leno Collection is Leno’s collection of automobiles and motorcycles, that’s valued at more than $52 million, and any real property.

Leno also instructed the JDM Foundation, a charity he launched in 1988, to open a museum with his automobile collection, and he’s already named the three initial directors.

In addition, Leno is leaving $7 million to Mavis’ brother Rikki Nicholson, who lives next door, and to his nephew Richard Leno.

The court-appointed official said Leno’s amendments to the trust will likely be approved.

It’s hard to imagine a world without Jay Leno! Please let us know what you think and then share this story so we can send Leno and Mavis a lot of love!

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