My Father Revealed at 72 That He Was Going to Marry His Old School Classmate!

My dad, whos now 72, once told me he was going to marry his old schoolfriend!

When he dropped the bomb, I was flabbergasted. Hold on a minute, I thought, hes already 72!

Hed been a lone wolf for twenty years since Mum passed away, and Id moved away three decades ago to start my own family. Still, I never forget him I pop round with Emma and the kids at Christmas and in the summer. Luckily for us, Dad is a sturdy old chap who never complains about his health, so he insists on doing everything himself, even though Emma and I still show up when the garden needs tidying or the wood needs chopping for winter.

Just the other day he rang me up, cheerful as ever, and announced it was time to bring a lady home. Turns out the lady is an old classmate of his they were tight back in the day, drifted apart when they moved to different towns, and now, in their golden years, have decided to reunite. Isnt that a bit of a joke? I asked myself.

When I heard about Dads impending nuptials, I told him straight away that we werent counting on being invited to the ceremony. That didnt stop him, though. He and his former schoolmate tied the knot a few months ago and held a modest little do.

What could have been missing from his life that he didnt wait until the very end to sort it out?

The fact is, Dads estate is massive a sprawling farm in Yorkshire, acres of fields, a hefty house, and a brood of grandchildren who would love to lay claim to it all. That makes me wonder whether this marriage is about love or merely about the £2million property.

Emma and I live in a threebedroom flat in Manchester, the mortgage of which weve been paying off for half our lives. We have two kids, and Ive always believed wed leave the flat to the older generation and the younger one would inherit Dads farm. Now were not sure who gets what.

We havent visited Dad in six months, and honestly, were not keen to go back now that hes busy building a new life. Relatives keep phoning, insisting we should be grateful that Dad has finally found happiness at his age. Of course, Id be glad for Dad, except for the nagging thought that his new wife might be after the land, and that well end up wrestling with a mountain of her relatives over the house I grew up in.

Im at a loss. I cant just ignore Dad, but I also dont have the stamina to pretend everythings fine. What would you suggest how can I get myself out of this sticky situation?