**Diary Entry**
My daughter-in-law asked me to keep my distancebut then, out of the blue, she called for help herself.
After my sons wedding, I visited them as often as I could. I never arrived empty-handedId always bring freshly baked scones, a homemade pie, or a hearty stew. My daughter-in-law, Emily, would praise my cooking, always the first to try it. I thought we had a warm, close relationship. It made me happy to be useful, to feel like I belonged in their livesnot as a stranger, but as family.
Then, one day, everything changed. I dropped by, and only she was home. We shared a cup of tea as usual, but I could sense tension in her gaze, as if she wanted to say something but didnt dare. When she finally spoke, her words hit me like a punch to the chest.
*”Itd be better if you didnt come round so often Oliver should visit you on his own,”* she said, avoiding my eyes.
I hadnt expected that. Her voice was cold, and in her expressionwas it irritation? I wasnt sure. After that day, I stayed away. I vanished from their daily life, not wanting to be a burden. My son came alone when he visited. Emily never set foot in our house again.
I kept quiet. Didnt complain to a soul. But inside, I ached. What had I done wrong? All Id wanted was to help My whole life, Id tried to keep peace in the family. Now, suddenly, my presence was a nuisance. It hurt, knowing I wasnt wanted.
Time passed. Their baby arrivedour long-awaited grandson. My husband and I were overjoyed. Still, we held back: we only visited when invited, took the little one for walks so we wouldnt be underfoot. We did everything not to intrude.
Thenthe call. Emily. Her voice was quiet, almost matter-of-fact.
*”Can you look after Henry today? I need to go out.”*
She didnt askshe just stated it. As if wed begged for the chance. And yet, only weeks before, shed asked me to stay away
I wrestled with what to do. Pride whispered, *”Say no.”* But reason said, *”This is your opportunity.”* Not for herfor Henry. For Oliver. For the sake of the family. Still, I answered differently.
*”Bring him to ours. You said you didnt want us dropping in uninvited. I wont impose in your space.”*
She hesitated. Then, after a pause, she agreed. When she brought him over, it felt like a celebration. We played, laughed, took him to the parkthe hours flew by. What joy, being grandparents! But beneath it all lingered a bitter aftertaste. I didnt know how to move forward.
Should I keep my distance? Wait for her to reach out first? Or swallow my pride and try to mend things? For my grandson, Id do almost anything. Id forgive hurtful words. Id try again.
Butdo they even want me? Does *she*?
I dont know if she realises how easily something built over years can shatter. Or how painstaking it is to piece it back together, bit by bit.
