I made my daughter leave home when she got pregnant at 17. I’d been a single mom too. I had her at 18, and I spent years telling myself it ruined my life.
So when she came to me with the same news, I said, “I wasted my youth raising you. I won’t make the same mistake.” I told her that if she was keeping the baby, she couldn’t do it under my roof.
She left in tears without arguing, and then she vanished. I tried to reach her, but she changed her number. Her friend later told me she’d left the country. For years, I thought she hated me.
Then, 16 years later, a teenager knocked on my door and said, “I’m your grandson. This is for you.” He handed me a wedding invitation. My daughter had found a good man and she was getting married. My grandson had insisted I be invited.
He told me, “My mom only ever spoke well of you. I know you’re both proud and neither of you will take the first step, so I will. I was the reason you two separated, and now I want to be the reason you make up.”
I cried and hugged him. Then he pointed to a car, and I saw my daughter sitting there. I ran to her, held her tight, and thanked her for letting me back into her life. I told her that raising such a kind-hearted young man was the most precious thing that she could do.
