My son kicked me out at my grandson’s birth: “She only wants family.” They never imagined what that would really cost them. PART 1 – THE DRIVE TO DENVER
My son stopped me at the hospital door after I’d driven fifteen hours straight across the American Southwest and said the words that would change everything. “Mom, what are you doing here?
My wife said she doesn’t want you around.”
Four days later, when Denver General Hospital called my home in Phoenix, Arizona, asking how I’d like to pay the ten‑thousand‑three‑hundred‑dollar delivery bill, I smiled for the first time since my grandson was born.
If this were one of those story‑time videos on social media, this is where I’d ask where you’re reading from and tell you to tap like and follow. Instead, I’ll just back up and explain how we reached this very American kind of justice.
Three weeks earlier, my daughter‑in‑law, Jessica, had called me, practically glowing through the phone. “Mom Carol, the baby’s due any day now, and we’d love for you to be here when he arrives.
You’re going to be such an amazing grandmother.”
I should have known something was off the moment she called me “Mom Carol” instead of just “Carol.” In five years of marriage to my son, David, she had never been that warm.
But the excitement of becoming a grandmother for the first time clouded my judgment. At sixty‑five, I’d been dreaming of this moment ever since David called eight months ago from Colorado to say, “Mom, you’re going to be a grandma.” I live in Phoenix. They live in Denver.
That’s fifteen hours of desert highway, interstate mountain passes, and truck stops from Arizona, through Utah, and into Colorado.
I packed my best outfits, bought gifts for the baby, and even splurged on a week at a nice hotel near the hospital in Denver. This was going to be the most important week of my life.
The drive itself was brutal. My back ached from sitting so long, but every mile brought me closer to meeting my grandson on American soil I’d crisscrossed my whole life.
I stopped only for gas and coffee, calling David twice to check if there was any news.
Both times, Jessica answered his phone, sweet as pie. “Drive safe, Mom Carol. We’re so excited you’re coming.
We can’t wait to see you,” she said.
The story doesn’t end here –
it continues on the next page.
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