I didn't go 'toe-to-toe' with my dad until earlier this year.
Fifteen years ago, he gave me a rifle that was owned by my great-grandfather on the condition I get it restored to new condition. I did that. This past spring, out of nowhere, he told me he wanted it back.
Well, I took it back, and I asked him why he wanted it. He told me that he wasn't thinking straight when he gave it to me, and had regretted it ever since. I then told him what I thought. The rifle was the only thing from his family that I've ever considered a 'birthrite', so to speak, and after giving it to me, asking for it back was simply wrong, especially after all this time. He got angry, and told me how it was his first, and he should be able to have it if he wanted it.
I said that yep, you can have it, but at least try to learn a little history about it like I had. I told him how it was made in 1907, and was likely bought 2nd hand by his grandfather, or given to him by his dad, since his grandpa Webb was only 9 when it was made. Then I told him I needed to leave before I said some things that I might regret later. As I was walking away, he walked after me asking me what I had to say. I didn't take the bait and kept going, got in my truck and left.
Two weeks later, I was grocery shopping one morning after work, and my phone rang. It was dad. He told me how he was bringing the gun back to me because he had nothing but bad luck since it came back to him. He had hit an electric poll with a dump truck one day, and another day he got stuck in the mud and had to get towed out. I told him to keep it with my blessing, because at this point, I really didn't want it. I would associate it with bad memories and hard feelings for now. I did ask him to put it in his will that it get left to me, if he so desired, when he passes. Other than that, I wanted him to have it for the rest of his life.