Moms, would you let your kids say goodbye to the father who abandoned them? #nineemotions

[0:00]Moms, would you let your kids say goodbye to the father who abandoned them? My first ex-husband left me when I was pregnant with our twin boys. He knew I was carrying his children, but he walked away anyway. He wasn't there for doctor visits. He wasn't there when I felt scared or sick, and he wasn't there when I needed him the most. He came back only when the babies were born, stayed for a few hours, and then left again like we didn't matter at all. It wasn't a mistake. He chose to do that. He chose to walk away from me and from them. He never sent money, never called to ask about their first steps or their first words. But somehow, he still bragged about being a father. He would tell people he had kids even though he had no pictures to show and couldn't even remember their names. He wanted to look like a dad without ever being one. When my boys turned 25, they had built lives of their own. They were strong men, but they carried the pain of growing up without a father. Then out of nowhere, my ex's former sister-in-law reached out. She told my brother that my ex was in the hospital, dying, and that he wanted to see the boys before he passed. My brother thought he was helping when he called each of my sons. He told them their father was very sick and wanted to see them. What my brother didn't know was that this wasn't the first time. My ex had faked being on his deathbed before just to get attention. He had pulled that stunt years earlier, and my boys hadn't gone then either. They knew better. The older twin grabbed his guitars and went to band practice. The younger one packed his car and drove back to his army base. They didn't waste a second thinking about it. They had grown up without him, and they weren't going to let him back into their lives at the very end. And then, only a few days later, it actually happened. This time, he really did die. He passed away in that hospital bed, never once seeing his son's faces, never once hearing their voices. He left this world, not even knowing their names. He begged for a moment he didn't deserve, and he never got it. It broke something inside me. I thought about all the years he could have had with them, the birthday parties, the graduations, the Christmas mornings, the family dinners. He threw it all away, and when his time was running out, he reached for the very people he had abandoned. But by then, it was too late. That was ten years ago. My boys have never regretted their choice. They don't feel guilty for not seeing him. They survived without him, and they became who they are without him. I stayed out of it because it was their decision to make, and I'm glad I did. Still, sometimes I wonder, if they had gone, would it have changed anything? Would they have seen him as just a broken old man instead of a ghost of a father? Or would it have ripped open the old wounds again? I'll never know, because they never got the chance to say goodbye, and maybe that's the saddest part. Their father died alone in a hospital bed while my sons kept living their lives, never even looking back. No goodbyes, no last words, just silence between them forever, and that silence, it still haunts me to this day.