The Reluctant Granddad: How a Grandson Rekindled His Gran’s Joy
Laura and Paul drove to the countryside with their son, Victor, to visit Laura’s mother and leave the boy with his gran for the holidays. They stocked up on groceries—sausages, her favourite cake, all the things she loved. But Teresa Dennisovna greeted them without much cheer. At the table, there was only tea and no treats. Despite filling the fridge to bursting, she barely touched a thing. She looked worn out and retreated straight to the sofa.
Outside, the sun melted what remained of winter—spring had arrived. Laura stood by the window, squinting at the brightness. “How lovely,” she thought, remembering her father, who had passed a few years back. He’d always welcomed spring with a grin: “We’ve made it through winter!” His cheer, his jokes, his hugs… And Mum—stern but full of life, able to smile through her grumbling. They’d truly adored each other. Now Teresa seemed faded, lost since her husband’s death.
Laura’s sister, Grace, called in a panic:
“Laura, Mum’s in a bad way. Says she’s tired of living. Nothing brings her joy anymore—just wants to be with Dad…”
“We’ll come this weekend, promise,” Laura vowed, but her heart ached. Maybe they should bring Mum home? She wasn’t coping alone.
And home was hectic enough. Their eldest, Danielle, was fiery, clashing with Paul and declaring she’d leave the moment she turned 18—sick of the “pressure.” Meanwhile, young Victor was glued to his phone day and night.
“Let’s visit your mum and take Victor with us. He could use a break from screens,” Paul suggested.
Victor rolled his eyes:
“What am I supposed to do there?!”
“Relax!” Danielle shot back. “And give us a break from you…”
That weekend, laden with groceries, they headed to the village. Teresa came out to meet them, but her face was grey. Paul nudged Laura—”She’s putting it on”—but she truly looked drained, refusing food, sipping only tea. When Laura asked if Victor could stay, Teresa just waved: “Leave him.”
Victor sulked but stayed. Gran shuffled to her room and… wept. Then she remembered meeting her Thomas—awkward, shy, stumbling over his words when her aunt introduced them. That was springtime, too. And now spring was here again, but he wasn’t.
A yelp startled her. Victor! He’d trapped his finger, scowling and pitiful.
“Why the sour face, Vicky? Hungry?” she asked softly.
“Your food’s rubbish. Makes my stomach hurt,” he grumbled. “You should make your milk pudding. The sweet one, with butter.”
Her chest tightened. Thomas had loved that pudding, always asked for it when down. Groaning, she heaved herself up.
“Only if you eat with me. I’m bored,” Victor added.
And so, they settled into a rhythm. Laura rang daily. At first, Gran was curt. Then came the complaints:
“Still won’t wipe his feet! Claims his stomach aches. Fixed that, though—no sweets till he cleans up. Sharp lad, that one!”
Paul laughed: “There we go! Someone to grumble at—life’s back on track!”
A week later, they returned for Victor—who refused to leave! Gran blinked back tears.
“Spitting image of Thomas… Stubborn, sweet, and a right little schemer!”
“Don’t cry, Gran. I’ll visit soon,” Victor said gravely.
“I’ll hold you to that, Vicky. We’ve got the garden, the gate—promised to help with everything!”
“I will, Gran. Promise.”
Teresa smiled through her tears.
“And give him back his phone—he’d better call me!” she ordered the parents.
“Well played, getting them together,” Laura chuckled at home.
“Like cures like. Our Victor could rouse the dead. Even got your mum off that sofa—and she was halfway to the next life!”
Now she had someone to live for again. Victor’s the double of Granddad. And Gran knows how to raise ’em right—just look at the wife I got! Paul added.
They laughed. Life, it seemed, was finally turning around.
