In Love with His Dad

👩‍💼'' Hello friends, I'm going to tell you my little story. My name is Fidèle Noah, yes it's ugly I know. I don't understand why my parents gave me this name, it's so old-fashioned and not really suitable for a girl like me. I'm the eldest in my family, I'm 30 years old, and yes, I'm already a big girl, still single and childless. You'll understand why I don't have children, it's voluntary. I come from a modest family, formerly rich but now poor because I'm practically the only one who brings food into the house.

I live with my little sister Lydie, who is still at school, and my father François Noah, who struggles to help me with the household chores. It's not always easy because he's sick all the time, he's diabetic and hypertensive, so he's often off work. I don't know what we'd have done if we'd been renting, given the high cost of living in the economic capital, which isn't easy. My mother pffff I don't like talking about her, she gets on my nerves. I often listen to people talking highly of their mothers, saying that they're their god and all that, it makes me sad. I would so much have liked my mother to be like other people's mothers, but too bad, she preferred herself to us. A few years ago my father lost his job, a job that kept us out of trouble, and I still remember those days well. We were so happy, an almost perfect family, my father took good care of us and his wife, and we lacked nothing. One evening, my father came home from work all downcast and looking desperate. The worst had happened, he'd lost his job due to a serious problem his company was experiencing, they'd had to lay off some employees and him at the same time. The world collapsed before our eyes, my father didn't have a plan B, nothing at all, and my mother, a housewife, was also counting on him. The family's lifestyle began to decline little by little until he could find another job. It seemed as if bad luck was on his side, because he couldn't find anything to do despite his skills, not even a sub-trade. That year was the hardest, my mother couldn't stand the extreme hardship we were in, and one morning we woke up to find she'd deserted us without a trace or a word. I was 22, I could already look after my family like a woman. So I took over, wiped away my father's tears and took care of him like a baby. He'd lost his self-confidence, lost the love of his life and thought he'd lost our respect at the same time. But it wasn't to be. My little sister and I gave him all the love children could give their dad. Little by little, he picked himself up and took on a series of odd jobs, thanks to which I was able to get my bachelor's degree and stop going to school. It was time for me to assume my responsibilities as an older sister. I started to look for work, I did any kind of job as long as it brought me something, with what I earned and what my father brought in we could manage and continue to pay for Lydie's studies. Until the day my father fell, it was a second shock for us, he had stopped working and I was the only one bringing in money. Not to mention his medication, medical care and visits. With all this, we could no longer manage the rent, so we accepted his older brother's offer to live with him.