I’m a 58-year-old mother to my daughter Sarah, who’s 32 and just welcomed her third child. My husband, who’s 60, and I live about 30 minutes from her and her family.
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- My daughter called last night, sobbing. “Mom, please,” she begged, “I need to go to the hospital. Can you watch the kids?”
- A heavy silence fell before Sarah spoke again, her voice barely a whisper.
- Fury coursed through me.
