I had just retired when my daughter-in-law called and said, “I’m going to leave my three kids with you. After all, you don’t do anything anymore, so you can watch them while I travel.” I smiled, ended the call, and made the most important decision of my sixty-seven years. My name is Helen Miller.
Thirty-five years of teaching at Lincoln Elementary in Columbus, Ohio, had prepared me to deal with difficult children and impossible situations, but nothing had prepared me for Brooke.
That afternoon, I was sitting in my living room enjoying my second day of retirement. My coffee table was covered in travel brochures—Yellowstone, the Grand Canyon, places I had always dreamed of seeing but never could because first it was raising Michael alone after his father died in that highway pileup, and then it was years of sacrifice to give him an education.
The phone rang at four in the afternoon. I saw Brooke’s name on the screen and hesitated.
Whenever she called, it was to ask for something.
“Helen,” she began without a hello. She never called me mother-in-law, much less mom. “I have an incredible opportunity in Miami.
It’s a multi-level marketing conference that’s going to change our lives.
The kids can’t miss two weeks of school, so I’ll leave them with you.”
“I’m sorry?” My voice came out as a whisper. “I said I’m going to leave Aiden, Chloe, and Leo with you.
After all, you don’t do anything anymore. You can watch them while I travel.
Now that you’re not working, you have all the time in the world.”
I don’t do anything anymore.
The words hit me like a slap. This woman who had never worked an honest day in her life, who lived off my son like a parasite, was telling me I did nothing. “Brooke, I have plans.”
She laughed with that sharp sound I detested.
“What plans can a retired old woman have?
Knitting? Watching soap operas?
Please, Helen. I’ll drop them off tomorrow at seven.”
“I’m not going to watch them for you.”
“What do you mean you’re not?
You’re their grandmother.
It’s your obligation. Besides, Michael agrees.” A lie. My son didn’t even know about this.
“If you ever want to see your grandchildren again, you’d better cooperate.
I decide if they have a grandmother or not.”
And that’s when something inside me broke. Or rather, something inside me woke up.
The story doesn’t end here –
it continues on the next page.
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