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I Became My Grandson’s Guardian When He Was Barely Two Years Old
I never imagined I would be raising a toddler again in my late fifties.
By then, I had already done the hard work of motherhood—sleepless nights, scraped knees, school meetings, teenage heartbreaks. I had watched my own children grow up and step into their adult lives. I thought my role had shifted to something softer: weekend visits, birthday cards, and spoiling grandchildren before sending them home.
When my grandson was barely two years old, I became his guardian.
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