Grandma’s house became my sanctuary.
It was the first place where I felt wanted. Where someone’s face lit up when I walked into the room.
She hung my drawings on the fridge. Helped me with homework. Tucked me in every night.
Still, the pain never fully left.
“Why doesn’t she want me?” I asked one night as Grandma brushed my hair.
Her hands paused.
“Oh, Becca. Some people just aren’t capable of giving the love they should. It’s not your fault, honey. Never think it’s your fault.”
“But she loves Jason.”
Grandma resumed brushing, each stroke soft and comforting.
“Your mother is broken in ways I couldn’t fix. I tried… God knows I tried. But she’s always run from her mistakes instead of facing them.”
“So I’m a mistake?”
“No, honey. You are a gift. The best thing that ever happened to me. Your mother just can’t see past her own selfishness to recognize what she’s throwing away.”
I leaned into her, breathing in her lavender scent.
“Will you ever leave me too, Grandma?”
“Never,” she said firmly. “As long as I’m breathing, you will always have a home with me.”
“Promise?”
“I promise.”
