“Sweetheart, what happened? Where’s Allen? Where’s your husband?”
She started sobbing then, deep, wrenching sobs that shook her whole body. “Louis left us two months ago,” she whispered. “He found someone younger, someone without kids. I… I couldn’t pay the rent. I had to give Allen to a shelter because I couldn’t keep him safe anymore.”
I looked at her with wide eyes, unable to process what she’d just said. My grandson was in a shelter. My daughter was homeless and pregnant, sleeping on subway floors.
“Why didn’t you call me?” I asked, taking off my coat to wrap around her shoulders.
“Because I was so ashamed,” she cried. “Because you were right about everything, and I was too proud to admit it. I thought you’d hate me.”
I pulled her into my arms right there on that subway floor, and for the first time in three years, I held my little girl. “Amber, I could never hate you. You’re my daughter, and I love you no matter what. We’re going to fix this, okay? Together.”
The next morning, we went to the children’s shelter.
Allen was three years old now, clutching a stuffed rabbit that had seen better days. When he saw his mother, he ran straight into her arms. “Mama!” he cried. “I knew you’d come back!”
Amber held him like she’d never let go, tears streaming down her face. “I’m so sorry, baby. Grandpa’s here now. We’re going to be a real family.”
It took months to rebuild what had been broken. I helped Amber find a small apartment, watched Allen while she worked part-time jobs, and was there when she gave birth to her daughter, Emma. Slowly, we healed the wounds that Louis and pride had created.
Two years later, Amber met David, a kind man who worked at the local library. He loved her children as his own and treated my daughter with the respect she deserved. When he proposed, Amber came to me first.
“Dad,” she said, tears in her eyes, “I need to ask you something. Will you give us your blessing?”
I looked at this man who had shown my daughter what real love looked like, who read bedtime stories to my grandchildren and never raised his voice in anger.
“If he makes you truly happy,” I said, “then he has my blessing completely.
