It should be the most glorious of moments.
Holding his grandson in his arms is the brightest of lights in Rob’s life. There’s no joy greater than the chance to “just love that child,” as Rob (not his real name) said recently.
But his son’s wife, his daughter-in-law, sits right next to him, glaring. She won’t leave the room while Rob holds his grandson. She won’t let him out of eyesight. She stays close enough to extract her child in an instant.
Rob has never done anything to hurt another person, certainly not his grandson. “I love that child with every bit of my heart,” he says.
But he feels the fear. He feels the judgment. He feels the absence of trust.
Rob has indeed hurt someone in the past—himself. Continue reading