My father has always been a frugal man. He saved every penny, lived modestly, and often reminded me of the importance of financial security. That’s why I was completely taken aback when he announced that he had booked an expensive, months-long cruise—using up nearly all of his savings.

He justified it by saying that he wanted to enjoy life while he still could. But what happens when the money runs out?
I can’t understand his decision. That money could have been put to much better use—helping our family.
For instance, my son really needs a new iPad for school. Education is more competitive than ever, and having the right tools is crucial for him to keep up with his peers. With just a bit more, we could have even started saving for his first car when he turns sixteen.

Those are meaningful expenses—things that contribute to a stable and secure future. Instead, my father is throwing his money into the wind, spending it on something temporary. When the vacation ends, what will he have to show for it?
And then there’s the inevitable reality—what if he needs financial support later? With his savings gone, that responsibility will likely fall on me. I love my father, and of course, I would help him if he needed it, but it’s frustrating to think that this situation could have been avoided with a bit more foresight.

Am I being unreasonable? Shouldn’t family come first? I just can’t shake the feeling that he’s being selfish, indulging in an extravagant trip while ignoring the real, lasting needs of those who care about him most.
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Hello! Grandfather here.
I’ve spent my life working hard for my family — long hours, endless sacrifices, making sure they had everything they needed. Every dollar went toward raising my children and securing their future. No regrets — that’s what I wanted to do.
But now, at 76, I finally chose something for myself. My last real vacation? In my 20s. Since then, it’s been all about responsibility and putting others first. Now, for the first time in decades, I have the chance to take a trip I’ve dreamed of for years.

After my wife passed away three years ago, I stopped finding joy in life, and I thought this trip might bring some happiness back. I know she would have wanted that for me.
I don’t know how much time I have left to enjoy my independence, my mobility, my ability to explore the world. At my age, things can change quickly. I’d rather take this journey now, while I still can, than wait until it’s too late.

I love my family deeply, and I always will. But does choosing to live a little for myself really make me a bad person? After everything I’ve given, after all these years — haven’t I earned that right?