I dedicated my life to raising Lizzie. My daughter, bless her heart, was always working double shifts to provide for her. But that meant I was the one who was truly there. I changed her diapers, sang her lullabies, read her bedtime stories countless times, packed her lunches with little notes, helped her with her homework (even when I struggled with the new math!), and cheered her on at every soccer game and school play. I was the constant in her life, the one she could always count on. I wasn’t just her grandma; I was, in every sense of the word, her mother. As the years flew by, I watched her blossom into a beautiful, intelligent young woman. I swelled with pride at every accomplishment, big or small. Her graduation from high school was a particularly poignant moment, and I knew that whatever path she chose, I would always be there to support her. We had an unbreakable bond, or so I thought.
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Then came the day I heard the news: Lizzie was getting married. I didn’t hear it from her, mind you. I found out from my daughter, who mentioned it casually during a phone call. My first thought was, ‘Oh, the invitation must have gotten lost in the mail.’ I waited patiently, checking the mailbox every day, but nothing ever arrived.
Finally, I couldn’t take it anymore. I swallowed my pride and called Lizzie. My heart was pounding in my chest as I waited for her to answer. When she finally picked up, I hesitantly asked about the wedding, hoping to hear that the invitation was simply delayed. But her words hit me like a ton of bricks. “No, Grandma,” she said coldly. “It didn’t get lost. I didn’t send you one.”
My heart plummeted. “But why, honey?” I stammered, tears welling up in my eyes. Her answer was a slap in the face. “Because you’re too embarrassing,” she said bluntly. “I don’t want you there ruining my wedding.”
I was stunned into silence. The words hung in the air, heavy and cruel. After all the years of love, support, and sacrifice, I was being deemed ‘too embarrassing’ for her big day. It felt like a knife twisting in my heart. I couldn’t believe that the little girl I had raised, the girl I had loved more than life itself, could be so callous and unfeeling.
I hung up the phone, tears streaming down my face. The pain was almost unbearable. How could she do this to me? Was I really so awful, so embarrassing, that she couldn’t even bear to have me at her wedding? It was a question that haunted me for days, and one that I still struggle to answer. I’m starting to think if there was any point in sacrificing everything for her.
