I had barely finished unpacking when trouble started. We’d finally bought a two-story house near the forest — the kind of place Steve and I had dreamed about for years: quiet roads, tall trees, fresh air. Steve worked mostly in Europe, so this home was going to be my world with our two boys, five-year-old Dylan and eight-year-old Mike. I pictured bike rides, backyard adventures, and slow Sunday mornings. We were there only a month. The day we moved in felt like a promise. The trucks had come and gone,

I’m 65 years old, and my life the past year has been nothing but grief, exhaustion, and worry. Everything changed the day my daughter died shortly after giving birth to her baby girl. She fought so hard during labor, but her body just couldn’t keep going. In a single night, I went from being the mother of a healthy adult daughter… to being the sole guardian of a newborn child. What made things worse was what her husband—my son-in-law—did right after. I still remember him holding his baby girl in

I gave my son the house next door when Noah was born, certain I would always be a part of his life. Instead, my daughter-in-law banned me. Then one night, Noah crept through the fence and whispered, “Grandma, Mom disappeared.” From that moment, nothing was the same. When my son Michael got married, and later told me they were expecting a baby, I already knew what I wanted to do. A small, cozy house had just gone up for sale right next door to mine. I didn’t hesitate for even