My Mother stole from my Grandmother who was raising all three of her children.We were 5, 4 and 1 year old when my Mother decided she didn’t want us. My bio parents were awarded a divorce and because my Grandmother didn’t want us in Foster care she took us to raise at 73 yrs of age. The Judge asked her if she could maintain a home for us and she said she could. My bio parents were to pay a certain amount to my Grandmother but she never received anything.
My Grandmother wanted to move us from in the city to out in the country so we left Texas and moved to Arkansas. As she was getting things in order she went by the bank to get the money from Savings Accounts she had made for each one of us. There was nothing left. My Mother had closed out the accounts and took all the money. This happened in the ’60s and I assume that is why she was able to do it. I know today she would never be able to close them out.My Grandmother was hurt. We three children were hurt. Yet, in the end it was my Mother who hurt.She never got to watch the football games my brother played in nor hear the band concerts my other brother played. She never was able to listen to the piano recitals I played in. She wasn’t at my wedding nor was she there when my two daughters were born. She never got to meet her grandchildren. All by her choice.
My Grandmother was the one we loved and honored until the day she died. She lived to be 97 and losing her was the hardest day of my life. We had engraved on her headstone, “Forever in our hearts” and that was the way we’ve continued to feel. She was our angel.I wanted to enclose a picture of us and my Grandmother the last time we were all together. She was in her early 90s and we three all were adults. That was many years ago but her teachings and love last forever.
CREDITS: Davis Michelle