*How could you let your former mother-in-law see your granddaughter?*—they said—*Have you no pride at all?*
Last week, my little girl turned two. A small celebration, just among close family. Her father, my ex-husband, didn’t even remember the day—no call, no message, nothing. But his mother, my former mother-in-law, rang ahead. She said she wished to come, to wish the child well. I thought, *What harm could it do?* She arrived bearing gifts—a stuffed toy, a few sweets, and an envelope with money inside. We took a stroll in the park, then returned home… and that’s when the nightmare truly began, recounted by 30-year-old Eleanor with a heavy sigh.
“What happened?”
“My mother, upon seeing me with Margaret Whitmore, flew into a rage. She shouted that I’d disgraced the family, that I had neither shame nor pride. *How could you let that woman near the child?* she scolded. Said I ought to have thrown the *pitiful gifts* back in her face and slammed the door on her.”
“She truly took issue with the presents?”
“Indeed! Called the toy cheap, the chocolates unfit, and claimed she ought to have given more. Mutterings lasted all night! She accused me of practically embracing the woman—*that wretched grandmother*—as if I’d forgotten how she once turned me out without a penny to my name.”
Eleanor had divorced a year prior. Her husband had proven unfit for family life. When hardships struck—sleepless nights, a crying child, empty pockets—he’d folded. Decided it simpler, cheaper, quieter to live without wife or child. Packed his things and left without a word. The flat was in his mother’s name, and Eleanor was swiftly shown the door.
“I didn’t even understand what was happening. Like the lights had gone out. Where was I to go? What was I to do? I was stunned.”
Her mother-in-law’s solicitor handled the divorce. Not that there was much to divide—the flat, the car, all in his parents’ names. He paid a pittance in support. Eleanor hadn’t the heart or strength to fight in court. She was too weary, too broken.
“I asked for just one thing—to stay until my maternity leave ended. I didn’t want to return to Mother; she’s a difficult woman, sharp-tongued. But Margaret Whitmore refused. *You’re neither the first nor the last daughter-in-law,* she said. *This isn’t a hotel.*”
Yet before the final severance, she had helped—hired movers, packed belongings, even saw them delivered to Eleanor’s mother. Let her take what she needed, though Eleanor took only her own. Wouldn’t give anyone cause to accuse her later.
Now, eight months on, she and her little girl live squeezed into a one-room flat with her mother. The support money barely covers nappies. Neither the father nor his kin show the slightest interest in the child. No calls, no letters. Only Margaret Whitmore, the former mother-in-law, asks after the girl now and then.
“I didn’t want a quarrel. That’s why I agreed to meet her on neutral ground—the park,” Eleanor sighs. “I knew Mother would disapprove, but I’d hoped for understanding. In vain.”
“She didn’t just take offense. She near threw me out. Called me a traitor. Said if I was so tender-hearted, I ought to go live with *her* instead. *You can’t raise a child right,* she said, *because you’ve no backbone.* And all the while, *they* mistreated you, and you left the door open for their grandmother!”
“Eleanor… but Margaret didn’t have to call. She was reaching out, wasn’t she?”
“That’s how I saw it. But Mother won’t bend. To her, it’s all black and white. If they’re enemies, then no visits. No gifts. No walks. But I wanted my daughter to keep some tie to those who loved her, even from that side.”
Now Eleanor dreads another scene. The grandmother who once aided is now the worst of foes. Her mother demands a clean break from the past. And Eleanor is torn between what’s right and what’s needed.
“What do I do? Cut the child off from her other grandmother—is that right? But quarrelling with Mother solves nothing. I’m alone now, with a little one, no support. I’m frightened. And I’m tired of being caught between two fires. I just want my daughter to grow up in peace, not in women’s endless wars.”
