I Spent 3 Months Hand-Carving Dad’s 60th Birthday Gift—He Threw It Away for My Brother’s $200 Watch. Months Later, He Begged Me for Grandpa’s Cabin, and I Finally Revealed Why I Walked Away

We’ve always been proud of your… little hobby.”

“A hobby?” I chuckled softly, a bitter sound. I stood up, walked over to my workbench, and picked up a cardboard box from the corner. It was weathered, with the faint scent of old attic dust and stale rainwater, but the brown paper wrapping and string were still intact, though frayed.

I set it heavily on the dining table between us.

“Do you know what this is?” I asked.

Dad glanced at the box, his brow furrowing. “It’s… I don’t know, Michael. Some of your wood?”

“This is the gift I gave you for your sixtieth birthday,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper, yet it seemed to fill the room. “The one I spent three months carving. The one where I carved Grandpa’s face into the king, and our childhood house into the rooks. The one you barely looked at